


A Fish By Any Other Name

by haku23



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: M/M, Merfolk AU, merman chirrut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 32,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10871358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haku23/pseuds/haku23
Summary: "Get back in the water before someone sees you.”“I’m good luck, you know, you should treat me nicely,” he says in English. He hasn’t ever asked why or how a merman would learn Mandarin or English, but assumes that he has picked up enough just from listening in on people.Baze rolls his eyes, “you’re a pain in the ass is what you are.”Aka Baze is the captain of a fishing boat, Chirrut is a merman au.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's MERMAY FRIENDS 
> 
> and that's literally the only reason that I wanted to write this other than that I love merfolk aus... and Baze and Chirrut. I'm not sure yet if there's going to be an actual, cohesive storyline or just... a collection of them doing things but like, I'm me so I'm trying to live with the fact that I'll end up writing a 50k monster.
> 
> Don't ask about the title I have no idea how to make titles LOL.

Baze sighs and lifts his cigarette to his mouth from where it dangles over the side of the boat. The sea is calm and reflects the grey early morning sky. Behind him the rest of the crew scramble around to get ready to set sail, shouting orders and information back and forth to one another. He doesn’t call himself a morning person, and as the Captain the crew has come to respect his morning cigarette time, but there is someone who isn’t nearly as respectful. He hears a thump against the hull just before a head breaks out of the water.

“You moved the ship again,” the merman says and fixes him with an accusatory stare. His eyes are pure white, no iris, and his face is youthful though he has been showing up now for at least ten years.

“Problem with the dock manager.”

“I’m coming up to speak with him,” the merman says and starts to haul himself out of the sea. He wears no clothing, but of course he has no lower body. Still, Baze averts his gaze and waves him away.

“No you’re not, get back in the water before someone sees you.”

“ _I’m good luck, you know, you should treat me nicely_ ,” he says in English. He hasn’t ever asked why or how a merman would learn Mandarin or English, but assumes that he has picked up enough just from listening in on people.

Baze rolls his eyes, “you’re a pain in the ass is what you are.”

The merman drops himself back into the water with a loud splash that makes Baze check over his shoulder for anyone who might have heard. “Don’t be so loud. If they catch you they’ll chop you up and eat you.”

“You say that every time. You’d protect me,” he grins, showing off sharp teeth as he reclines onto his back. His skin is pale but golden toned, and his tail is a mix of navy blue and slashes of red. He’s like no fish that Baze has ever seen, though, and he doesn’t know if there are anymore merpeople out there.

“I wouldn’t. I’d let them make you into Viagra.”

The merman’s laugh is like a gull’s cry and Baze lifts his cigarette again to cover his smile.

“What’s Viagra?”

“For when you can’t get it up.”

“Oh, I never have that problem,” he folds his arms behind his head as though he lays on a couch, the tips of the fins at his hips poke out of the water. They look sharp, like they’d cut him if he touched them, not that he’s contemplated it. Not even once. Not ever.

Baze draws his eyes away from the merman and pulls himself up from where he leans over the railing of the boat, “gotta go.”

He watches the merman sink beneath the water like a stone then scrapes his cigarette on the lip of the boat before turning his attention to the rest of the work that needs to be done.

\--

The merman flops across the deck. This close he’s something else. Baze is large, and taller than most of his crew, but in terms of length the merman has him beat. His tail alone is almost as long as Baze though his human-looking parts would put him as shorter if he had legs.

“What are you doing on my deck?” Baze asks. The crew are asleep, napping while they wait for the next leg of their trip, and so Baze has the place to himself. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as the merman pulls himself towards him.

“I wanted to see what it’s like. You know it’s been ten years and you still haven’t showed me around. That’s poor hospitality, no wonder you don’t have a wife.”

“Who says I don’t have a wife?”

The merman laughs, his webbed hands slapping against the cold wooden deck as he continues to walk over to him, “she’s never around. The other Captains, they have their wife see them off in the morning. You have a cigarette alone.”

“Maybe she sees me off from home,” he says. The merman rolls himself up on his tail so the he stands face to face with Baze. Up close the white of his eyes is eerie but Baze meets his gaze head on. The merman tips his head to one side as though trying to hear better then drops back to the deck.

“I can smell lies, you know,” he says. His tail is partly coiled below him like an eel’s, but he has the fluke of a fish, and gills to match. Still, he doesn’t gasp for air like a fish out of water might.

“I can smell bullshit. Get off of my deck before someone sees you,” he advances towards him like he’s shooing a petulant child away but the merman doesn’t budge. Instead he drops himself onto his side on the deck. His tail flaps against the deck in a steady rhythm and Baze is reminded of a woman batting her eyelashes.

The moonlight overhead bounces off of the merman’s scaled tail and Baze can’t keep himself from watching the slow rise and fall of his bare chest, the flash of scales, and the flex of his tail. The fluke is the same navy colour, but even shinier. Its shape is utilitarian, like a marlin, but the dorsal that runs down the back of the tail is like a leaf and the hip fins are flat now, instead of fanned. He looks like he’s made of jewels, and the merman shifts every so often like he knows it.

“Sit down with me, it’s late you should be sleeping.”

“Captain doesn’t sleep.”

“You got the school of fish I told you about yesterday?”

He grunts, and sits though the deck is cold and the water the merman has shaken off of him seeps into the seat of his jeans. “They were where you said they’d be.”

“Well they are just stupid fish. They don’t know that a handsome sea captain is trying to reel them in,” the merman says. His sharp teeth too flash in the moonlight and he leans closer, “so you should rest.”

“Who says I’m handsome?”

The merman’s tongue flicks out and across his lips, the look in his eye predatory as he shoves himself up and the closest to Baze’s face that he’s ever been. But then, he’s only seen the merman out of the water once before, and then had been different. His breath smells like fish, and Baze might have been disgusted if he didn’t spend the whole day smelling fish and smelling like fish himself. “Well you _sound_ handsome.”

“Sound?” he breathes out. He’s sitting on the deck of his boat in the middle of the night and there’s a merman right in front of him. He shivers. He tells himself it’s the cold.

“I can’t see, haven’t you noticed?”

“Oh.”

“You’re funny,” he grins and braces his hands on Baze’s knees. “I run into your boat and you think I’m just stupid, is that it?”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s stupid now?” the merman asks. His hands are cold and wet but he’s still smiling as he licks his lips again, “you smell like cigarettes. You smell like.”

“Like what?” he asks, but the merman launches himself backward at once, and in two quick movements he’s across the deck and back into the sea.

“Captain?”

He doesn’t answer at first, then looks over his shoulder, “I’m praying.”

The crewman stares at him for a moment, then nods, enthusiastically, “for continued good catches!”

“Yeah. Good catches,” he says. The crewman launches into further ideas to thank the sea, and Baze has to hold in his yawn.


	2. Chapter 2

In his youth, on Sundays he would go to church with his family. Now, he sleeps. He eats a proper meal. He pays his landlord. He doesn’t see the merman on Sundays, and he doesn’t know if he shows up down at the boat or not; by now he must know Baze’s schedule.

His apartment is near to the water, though, or as near that he can get without paying out the ass for the ‘privilege’ of bird crap all over his balcony and the near constant shouting regardless of the day. From here he sees the moored ships and more importantly, the horizon. He has a radio, so he has the weather forecast, but this is one of the places Baze allows himself to be a little bit superstitious.

The day is nearly finished now, all of his obligations complete, and so he settles at the tiny table by the window with his sketchbook. ‘You could be a painter, Baze’ Kaya always tells him; she’s the only person who has ever seen his work, and he doesn’t anticipate showing anyone else either. He’s a fisherman. There’s no point in pretending otherwise.

Still, he lets himself have this one indulgence on his free days.

He sketches for a while, his mind resting on no one subject in particular, but when he looks down at the page it’s full of the merman. He quickly flips to a fresh page with a loud sigh as though there is anyone somehow lurking in his open concept studio apartment to see his embarrassing love letters to the curve of the merman’s smile, the strength of his shoulders, and the pale eyes that always seem to find Baze. He draws the view from his small window instead and when the sketch is finished he continues and lays down some watercolours in pastel purple, blue, and orange before the sun sinks too low for him to see. He flips on the small lamp beside him and rubs at his eyes-he’ll need glasses soon, but he holds out stubbornly.

Tomorrow he’ll see the merman again, and he can’t help but wonder if he’ll come up onto the deck. Or maybe, he can’t help but _hope_ he will.

\--

“I brought you something,” the merman says. He swims back and forth along the length of the boat, one hand behind his back. The morning sky is pink; Baze eyes it and rubs at his knee. 

“What is it?” he asks without looking at him. The sky is clear-ish for now, but things can turn at anytime. But they have to go out; if they’re lucky they’ll beat the storm. If they aren’t, well, Baze isn’t a greenhorn.

“Guess.”

“Coral.”

“No.”

“Shells.”

“No.”

“Fish?” he asks, already becoming exasperated with the game. It’s nice for the merman who has all day to swim around but Baze has a crew to get out and back safely. A crew that he’s currently ignoring under the guise of his early morning grumpiness.

The merman relents, and pulls his arm up and out of the water. He holds a chunk of something that looks like glass, but not quite. “It felt interesting, what is it?”

“A rock?” he leans over the railing  to try to see it better, but the rock blends in with the water.

“A rock? Is it? What does it look like?”

“Bring it up here,” he says, and the merman grins before he breaches from the water and catches hold of the side of the boat with one hand. Baze grabs his wrist holding the rock and helps him get halfway up and onto the railing where he drapes himself over it, hidden from view by Baze’s bulk. It can’t be comfortable, but the merman doesn’t complain. 

“What does it look like?”

“Diamond maybe. Quartz. Glass. I don’t know what it is.”

“But what do those look like?” the merman asks, and Baze remembers his blindness. He must have always been that way, or at least long enough that he doesn’t remember what glass looks like. He feels even stupider for not having noticed before.

“Like when you break through the other side of a wave. Clear.”

“Do you like it?”

“I like it, but why give it to me?”

The merman grins, “I like it. I want you to have it.”

“What do you want in return?”

“I want to come onto the boat,” the merman says and starts to pull himself up and over the railing again.

“No. No no. Not right now.”

“Why not? Are you embarrassed of me, Captain?”

“I told you before, they’ll cut you up,” he pockets the rock before he puts his hands on both of the merman’s shoulders, “come back later and you can come up.”

“I can?” he asks. He sniffs the air, and blinks, “when?”

“Night time.”

The merman appears to be agreeable and launches himself into the water again, though he continues to look up at Baze for a little while longer. Long enough for Baze to finish his cigarette and explore the smooth ridges of the rock in his pocket-fish aren’t anything new, but this is something different. It’s something closer to an actual gift. Something you’d give someone you liked. He scoffs at himself. That’s a stupid thought even for him.

\--

As the day continues the sky and his mood darken. The merman hadn’t given him any information on fish, but at this point he’d be happy enough to just get back to port before the storm hits. The water is choppy and the boat tips back and forth with each movement of the water; it makes him remember the first time. Then, he’d thrown up his breakfast, this time he just keeps his eyes on the angry sea and the clouds that are going from light to dark grey. He curls his hand around the rock in his pocket; it seems to hum in his palm but maybe it’s just that he can’t help but think of the merman when he touches it.

He must be going crazy, thinking about the merman so much. He doesn’t even know his name or if he’s the only one. But Baze isn’t so talkative either; he doesn’t know if the merman knows his name, or anything other than that he’s a Captain of a fishing vessel.

The swells start to grow in size and he orders everyone below deck but himself, their gear has already been packed up and secured and now all that remains is him getting them home safe. He takes a breath. He wonders what the merman does during storms, if the ocean is as unfamiliar to him as it is to Baze when the rain is like sheets, the wind screams, and lightning crackles across the sky.

He notices the line snapping in the wind all at once and growls, frustrated as the crewman’s incompetence. It’s not difficult, making sure that everything is secured, and yet. He calls them up and tries to keep himself from yelling too loudly.

He calls his second up to the cabin.

“I’ll take care of it myself. I want the name of the guy who fucked this up,” he snaps. The man nods, wide-eyed at the prospect of steering the ship himself no doubt, but Baze has no time for his uncertainty. He descends the narrow stairs and shoves his arms through a life jacket that’s fit a few summers ago before he heads out into the storm with one other man.

The deck is a constantly shifting thing, each step different than the last. But they make it out to the line. It whips too quickly for him to grab with his hands, and since he likes having all of his fingers he employs the nearby net pole.

It’s when they walk back, triumphant, that the shit hits the fan.

A wave slams into them, knocking the other man off his feet and sliding into the side of the boat, and Baze into the nearby equipment. He hears something crunch, and braces himself as the boat pitches again to the other side. Broken ribs, probably. Breathing sends knives shooting up his torso. He manages to reach the crewman and hauls him to his feet by the back of his life jacket. Get back to the cabin. Get back to shore. He repeats it like a mantra in his head. He’s repeating it when another wave crashes across the deck. He’s repeating it when he plunges head first into the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get so annoyed with these stupid notes... I don't want the chapter one ones to be there... but alas. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, if you want to chat hit me up at haku23.tumblr.com!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of getting 69 kudos... another chapter. Sadly, the number has nothing to do with the subject matter of the chapter :p.

The first thing he notices is not how cold the water is. It’s how quickly he bobs to the surface, coughing the water from his mouth. But then, he notices everything. How badly his ribs hurt, how cold the water is, how his life vest hangs off of one shoulder. Waves continue to break over him, shoving him down. It’s not his first time in the water, obviously, but it’s his first time fighting it. He can barely open his eyes, the rain pelts him so hard, but he sees the flicker of a light sweeping past him. He yells, but the wind carries it away as he wrestles to keep his life jacket on. Stupid of him, not replacing his equipment. Stupid of him to go out on deck in the middle of a storm.

He sputters, legs kicking as best they can despite how his teeth have already started to chatter. He had to fall in now, when the weather is still cold, when the water is colder. He lets himself fall backward to float, but the waves keep crashing down. The boat gets farther away, and every movement clouds his head with pain and water and cold.

“If you wanted to see me you just had to say so!”

Baze startles at the sound of the merman yelling beside his ear. He feels arms around his waist and realizes he’s not sinking anymore.

“I fell off the boat,” he wheezes out.

“You have to get back, you’re cold,” the merman says.

He wants to say something smart, but just nods. He doesn’t know how far they are from port now; he can barely see the lights from the boat as it is.

Even with his eyes closed against the wet he feels the sharp tug and then he’s moving, being pulled through the water faster than he might have thought. He knows the merman is fast; he has to be to be able to jump up onto the side of the boat like he does, but it’s another thing entirely experiencing it. They don’t fight the waves, but duck beneath them, the merman’s arms strong enough to overpower his life jacket’s buoyancy. He’ll take the time to be appropriately awed and terrified when/if he makes it out of this alive.

He doesn’t know how long it takes for the merman to drag him to safety, only that one minute he’s being tossed around and the next he’s laying on the beach. He feels the merman’s hands on his face, pinching him and nudging his shoulders and then he’s hacking up a lung and his eyes are open and being battered by the rain.

“Captain? Captain,” the merman’s voice is shaking slightly as he continues smoothing his hands over Baze’s hair and chest, “I can’t pull you any further. You have to go for help.”

“Yeah,” Baze says and doesn’t move. He’d barely done anything except kick his legs every so often but he’s bone tired.

The merman’s arms shudder as he yanks him upright by the shirt. He flops against him, feels his gills flapping quickly beside his ear, and the way his entire body shivers just as much as Baze’s. “Get up, Captain.”

“Yeah.”

“Get up, get up,” he shakes him a little bit and Baze hears him make a distressed noise, “please, get up, I can’t carry you. Don’t die. I’ll never ask to come onto the boat again if you live.”

He wants to tell the merman not to be stupid, but only manages to push himself away. He kneels on wobbling legs, then stands. He stumbles across the empty beach and up to the boardwalk, up to the coast guard’s office, forces an explanation out through chattering teeth.   

\--

“Baze, my god, I heard there was an accident but,” Kaya breathes out. By virtue of being one of his only friends, she is his emergency contact, and so she stands at his bedside berating him and comforting him in equal measures. She’s like a sister; not that Baze, the only child, would know.

“It’s not that serious. The crew, they got back safe then?” It hurts to breathe even with the pain meds so he keeps his breaths shallow.

“Yeah, but, how did _you_ get back to shore? They said you fell in and it was like you disappeared.”

“I must have swam.”

She purses her lips, “that’s impossible.”

He shrugs and she’s not the religious type either, really, but she continues, “it’s a miracle.”

Again he shrugs though it hurts and he’s really only doing it so that he doesn’t blurt out that he’d been saved by a merman. Though at this point it might be more plausible than saying he just swam to shore himself in the middle of a storm, in a too-small life jacket, in freezing water, and with broken ribs.

“It was a merman,” he says and she looks at him.

“I’m sorry, you should rest, I’ll come back for you in the morning.”

Well. No one can say he didn’t try. Still, he doesn’t intend upon staying the night here; he waits until she leaves then calls for a nurse.

They are, unsurprisingly, less than enthusiastic about him leaving.

“It’s only broken ribs,” he says to the nurse who smiles kindly and pats him on the hand. She calls him uncle and he starts to feel regret-this kid will take the blame for letting him leave too soon if he forces his way out. He settles back into bed and tries to block out the sound of the people in the other beds snoring or crying out in their sleep with his pillow.

\--

The sea is calm everywhere but where the silver fish in Baze’s nets scramble to escape, and the sun beats down, oppressively hot despite the otherwise cool weather. People shout back and forth to one another, only stopping when Baze barks his own orders over the PA and pulls them back from chaos. The last thing he needs is a fight while there’s money to be made. The effort makes his ribs ache, and he eyes the pain medication on the control panel for a minute before turning his attention elsewhere.

From his spot in the cabin he sees far out across the ship and the water, but he doesn’t find what he looks for. He pulls a cigarette from the crumpled package in his jacket pocket and lets it hang from his lips unlit. Kaya says smoking is a dirty habit. Baze agrees, but he’s not about to stop now. He lights up and squints against the sun bouncing wildly off of the water.

Worrying about a merman in the ocean seems about up there with worrying about a dog’s barking but he continues scanning the ocean in between keeping his eye on the nets being hauled up and over the side of the boat. It’s a large enough fishing vessel, or rather large enough to compete with the other fishermen though he can always stand to go bigger, and so the merman should have no trouble finding him if he wants to.

But he hasn’t. Not since that night he dragged Baze from the water. It’s the longest he’s ever gone without showing up, and Baze finds his mind wandering to what might have happened to him. Maybe it’s that his debt is repaid-a life for a life-and so he sees no need to visit Baze anymore. He shoves his hand in his pocket and holds on to the rock.

“Captain,” the voice comes with a strained sort of patience.

“What?” he turns to ask. His cigarette nearly falls out of his mouth, and he notices the pile of ash that has accumulated on his lap.

“Hold is full, we’re ready to head back.”

“What’s it look like?” their haul should be good, Baze’s Fish Finder is a decent replacement for when the merman isn’t so forthcoming with information, and the crewman confirms it.

“Big money.”

“Big money,” he echoes, smiles. He takes a gulp of the coffee on the control panel and holds back his wince at the taste of stone cold, black coffee. He gives one last look at the water then turns them back towards home.

\--

“I don’t care, that price is no good,” Baze says. The gulls screeching seem to agree with his annoyance as they swoop low and try to snatch fish from unwary boats. Like out at sea here everyone is yelling, everyone is loud.

The buyer shrugs her shoulders at him, her lined face a picture of ambivalence, “you don’t like it find someone else.”

They’re at an impasse. There _is_ no one else. She smiles. She knows it. He knows it. At this rate he’ll just scrape by, and he’s already lost two more of his crew to rival boats because of rate of pay. He runs a hand through his greasy hair and sighs.

“I save your son from drowning and this is how you repay me?”

 “It was three years ago and you still try to bring it up. Get better leverage, or don’t try to bargain.”

He won’t beg. He’s too old to get on his knees in front of everyone on a carpeted surface nevermind on the unforgiving pavement of the pier so he just shakes his head. “An extra thousand and we have a deal.”

“500.”

“500?”

“500.”

“500,” he throws up his hands as he agrees. He lights up a cigarette and goes to sit by his boat-the last thing he needs is someone messing something up and screwing him out of more money. They’ll need to go out again tomorrow, maybe tonight even. He kisses his day off goodbye.

“Baze,” the dock manager calls. And that’s just a whole other thing he doesn’t want to get into but here the guy comes anyway. He’s thin, and dresses like he’s going to school for all that he works at a dock with a bunch of fishermen, and his hair is parted to one side. He looks like a knock off Peewee Herman. He doesn’t hear Baze the first time so he repeats himself.

“Yeah. What is it?”

“You’ll go back to your usual spot,” he says, looking from Baze’s boat to the iPad in his hands and that’s about the only good news he’s heard since ‘the hold is full’.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t know why you’re so attached to it, did you get laid on your boat in that spot?”

He huffs out a laugh, “I just got screwed, so maybe this will change my luck back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly the kind of look I had in mind for the dock manager was that one guy in Kung Fu Hustle on the streetcar who kicks Sing's ass lmao. Which is really oddly specific but my brain is weird like that. 
> 
> Thanks for readin, as always I'm at haku23.tumblr.com if you want to scream at me or otherwise chat :D!


	4. Chapter 4

He hears a whistle as he steps out onto the deck. It’s early, too early for the crew to be up yet and he crosses the span of the boat in two seconds flat.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snaps at the water before he realizes that the merman isn’t there. He hears a laugh, and wheels around in the opposite direction. The water is dark and so the merman’s face is stark against it. Only his face breaks the surface, making him look like a disembodied head floating in the water. He doesn’t look any worse for wear, and so he has to chalk up his absence to just a lack of desire to see him.

Baze repeats himself and the merman laughs again.

“Were you worried?”

“No.”

“I smell lies.”

“Where were you?”

“If you come down here I’ll tell you,” he grins, blinking up at Baze.

“I can’t, you know that.”

“I was meditating and lost track of time,” the merman says with the delivery of an honest man. Still, Baze has learned not to trust him entirely when it comes to these things, he is still a merman after all and after awhile Baze has to stop getting squirted in the eye with water when he very trustingly tries to look at what the merman holds in his hands.

“Meditating. What’s a fish got to meditate for?”

“Enlightenment, what else?”

“Enlightenment. So you’re a Buddhist merman.”

He latches on to the side of the boat and starts to pull himself up even as Baze shouts at him to get back in the water, and ignores the part of his brain that continues to be impressed by the merman’s upper body strength. He hangs off the side like an ornament, his head resting in one hand.

“Either get off or get up here. Showoff.”

Baze watches him rise up the rest of the way so that he can perch precariously on the railing. His tail flaps and his fins extend out for what Baze can only assume is balance.

“I dreamt I was a butterfly,” the merman says as he strikes a thinking post and Baze very nearly pushes him over the side again.

“Where do you even learn this crap?”

“Where do you think? Humans,” he grins and leans forward. One of his hands grips the railing while the other lowers from his chin, “you’re always doing something by the water, and you’re all not very observant. Even a blind fish sees better than you.”

“I’ll give you that.”

The merman leans ever closer and his hand comes up to rest on Baze’s chest, “what else will you give me?”

The warmth of his tone contrasts with the cold of his hand and this close he sees the slightly strange texture to his skin. It’s like whale skin, but not at the same time. He’s lean, and doesn’t appear to have any blubber, but then Baze isn’t exactly an expert on merpeople.

“I thought you were the one who was supposed to grant wishes.”

“You’ve never asked for anything.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Nothing?” he asks. His nose brushes Baze’s and he inhales when Baze exhales. His eyes drop half closed, and he drops his chest against Baze’s. He’s soaking wet, but the water only appears to cling to Baze’s shirt and not the merman’s flesh. “Nothing at all?”

“You’re going to fall.”

“You’ll catch me.”

“I won’t.”

As if to prove it the merman lets go of the railing, dropping both of them to the deck like a sack of bait. The merman laughs, tail thudding against the wood beneath it as he leans over Baze. He laughs, but his face is serious and Baze starts to feel like a lone fish away from its school just waiting to be eaten. He weighs a ton, giving him all the more appreciation for his ability to pull himself out of the water, and so Baze can’t get back to his feet. He can barely prop himself up on his elbows.

“You’re an idiot,” he says.

“Why didn’t you catch me?”

“Because your stupid fins are out! What the hell am I supposed to do?” he tries to keep his voice down but fails. The merman blinks at him.

“You smell like. Anger.”

“I do? Wow, you’re a genius. Get off of me.”

The merman pulls back, his hip fins slowly fold in on themselves, and he holds himself up and away from Baze with his hands, “did something happen?”

“No.”

“Why are you lying? You’re back out so soon, is it because of that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he mutters. He’s tired, the coffee he’d drank kept the droop of his eyelids at bay just long enough for him to get out here.

“Did you not get enough fish? You humans always need so much; the other boat is always taking so much,” he says, his lips turned down in a frown.

“What other boat?” he asks. He searches over the top of the railing for the tips of any of the rival boats but comes up empty, “you help other boats?”

“Oh,” the merman breathes, his eyes are wide now and his mouth a wide slash across his face, “oh, you’re _jealous_!”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You _smell_ jealous.”

“I’m not. You disappeared for weeks, I thought something bad happened to you, not you’re at other boats,” he doesn’t meet his gaze as he says it. He should have known; foolish of him to think that the merman sought out only him when there’s an entire ocean of boats and captains to choose from.

“I wasn’t at other boats, I only like yours,” the merman replies. He’s close again but he still looks like he’s scrutinizing Baze. “The other ones try to throw me things, but you don’t.”

“They think you’re good luck. I know better.”

The merman laughs, and pulls at his jacket with one hand, “you should come swimming with me.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Make time.”

“Stop acting like a child, some of us have jobs to do.”

“You’re not doing it right now. Are you afraid I’ll drown you?” he asks and well. It’s crossed his mind. Baze isn’t the superstitious type, but when a merman asks you if you want to have a nice swim with him in the ocean you start to wonder about his intentions. It would be a long game to play, gaining his trust for 10 years, saving his ass just to drown him, and Baze is old and probably tough meat but still.

“That’s not unusual for a human to think.”

“Humans drown all the time on their own, why would I have to do it myself? Why won’t you come to the beach when you’re free? You never come anymore,” he says and now he does look like a child, pout and all. “I’m only good for fish, is that it?”

“You sound like a salesman. Enough. I just don’t have the time, not that I don’t want to come.”

“Is it because of that boy? You saved him, didn’t you?”

“I said enough,” he yells. His voice rings in his ears and the merman only stares at him, silent. He sighs and the merman inhales. He isn’t nearly as close now, and Baze has to stop himself from pulling him back in. His mother must not have raised him right, he’s yelling at a mythical creature from the ocean he makes his living on.

“You smell sad,” the merman says softly. His dark brows are furrowed, making him look nearly as old as Baze.

“Please. Enough.”

“I’ll find you more fish.”

“I don’t want more fish.”

“What do you want? I can give you whatever you want, you know, I’m magic.”

Baze stares at him for a minute then begrudgingly lets himself find it funny, “you’re not magic.”

“I am, I could give you riches, or. Enlightenment. Or,” he pauses to think, “A bigger boat.”

“Enlightenment? You haven’t even reached it yourself.”

“Well I might,” his expression relaxes a bit, apparently taking his queues from Baze’s mood, and so Baze lets his shoulders lower.

“What would I have to give you in return? My soul?”

“What kind of person would I be if I asked for something in return?”

“What kind of beast are you that you don’t want something?”

He preens a little, smoothing his hand over his shorn hair, “I’m special. But maybe you could give me something.”

“What is it?”

The merman gets close again. He must like it, because he keeps doing it, or else he likes the way Baze’s breath catches in his throat when he presses their chests together. His eyelashes are dry now like the rest of him, and Baze sees the outline of an iris that has clouded over. It’s 4am in the morning, the sun isn’t up, and he’s so tired that his vision starts to blur every few seconds. It’s 4am in the morning and the merman touches Baze’s cheek with his hand. The texture is soft, springy, and the merman’s lips part as he drags his fingers down Baze’s cheek.

“You’re so warm.”

“I’m freezing.”

He gasps and pulls his hand back a little bit when he reaches his goatee, “why do you have hair there?”

“I grew it.”

“Why?”

“Made me look older,” he shrugs.

“You didn’t have it before.”

“Like I said, I grew it.”

The merman’s other hand joins the first and Baze is struck by how strange it must look to an outsider. He tenses and the hands stop their wandering.

“It’s okay,” he says, and the merman smiles and continues. It’s strange, but not unpleasant. The merman’s hands aren’t gentle, but they aren’t rough with him either as he turns Baze’s face one way and then the other. He gets closer still and presses his cheek to Baze’s. He rubs against his beard like an over affectionate cat.

“It’s rough.”

“It’s hair.”

“I like it,” the merman purrs. He does it again, his hands still holding Baze’s face in place. “I _like_ it.”

“Thanks.”

He loses track of how long the merman keeps him there, rubbing his face against him as though he’s scent marking him, his head is already fuzzy from sleep and then it’s something else. He doesn’t want it to be arousal, but the merman makes a noise in his throat that makes him think the feeling is mutual.

“You smell good,” he breathes out. His tail flaps slowly against the deck and Baze reaches out and rests a hand on his waist. His mother really didn’t raise him right; he’s trying to restrain himself from groping a fish. But the merman makes the noise again and he feels his teeth drag against his skin, not hard enough to make a mark but enough that they both shiver. His skin is markedly different from the scales of his tail; there he’s undeniably a fish and his scales are rough against his palm when the merman shifts again.

The merman moves and then he’s on Baze’s lap, cradled between his legs, his hands slipping down to Baze’s neck and his mouth open and moving ever closer to Baze’s as though in slow motion.

“Um. Captain?”

Baze’s eyes snap open then squeeze shut at the light. He sits up slowly and blinks at the small huddle of men beside him. The sun is up. His crew is up. He’s lying on his back on the deck of his ship, and the merman is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baze was just a little tiny bit jealous but y'know? Who can blame him? 
> 
> The "I dreamt I was a butterfly" line is a reference to Zhuangzi, but he was a Taoist philosopher not Buddhist so needless to say, Chirrut is just taking the piss out of Baze a little bit lmao(though he should be nicer after disappearing for a month and a half). 
> 
> Also I know, I'm a terrible tease but I think that some of you might enjoy the next chapter~ ;D
> 
> Thanks for reading! haku23.tumblr.com if you want to chat!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh this chapter is mostly Baze touching on Chirrut so if that's something that's Not For You that's totally okay, feel free to skip everything after “Maybe,” Baze says. His hand slips to the side of his face and the merman leans into it, “you’re like a cat.” and you won't miss any ~story~ related details lol. Next chapter will be back to G rating :>.

“He seems happier, is he happier?” Kili asks. She inspects him as she pours the tea, and then he has the weight of her and Kaya’s stare upon him.

“He does seem happier.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Baze says.

Kili shrugs, “well you didn’t answer, so what am I supposed to think? Playing hard to get?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You were so miserable before, Baze,” Kaya says. They enjoy teaming up on him and so he can’t help but be thankful that the merman isn’t able to join in; that would be three against one. She sets down his usual blue cup in front of him and he takes a sip.

“I wasn’t miserable, I was on pain meds.”

“Doctors these days are so quick to prescribe medicine,” Kili mutters.

“Well it’s not like he’s going to put Tiger Balm on broken ribs.”

He lets them talk without saying much; his ribs are healed, and the merman is back, it doesn’t matter anymore. Their house is small, and so their voices fill the space well enough without him joining in. It’s warm and comfortable, and he wonders after the merman-he wonders if he’s the only one.

\--

“Do you have any family?”

The merman stretches, making his scales flash in the moonlight, and hums, “I used to, but they’re all gone now.”

“Oh,” Baze shifts his seat on the deck. The moon is full, and the water clear and quiet. The hold is half full, they’ll be headed back home tomorrow.  

“It’s all right. Do you?”

He thinks of Kaya and Kili, “two sisters.”

“What are they like? Do they look like you?” the merman asks as he rolls over onto his stomach. His hand brushes Baze’s ankle before grabbing hold of it, “you have strong ankles.”

“They don’t. They’re not blood related.”

The merman moves again so that his crossed arms lay across Baze’s crossed legs. He looks up at him, the whites of his eyes like the moon brought down to earth. He sighs, his tail stills and he lays his head in the cradle of his arms.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the boat.”

“It’s all right.” His hand comes to rest on the merman’s head and he runs his palm over his short, prickly hair.

“I couldn’t bring you to safety.”

“You saved my ass, what are you talking about?”

He makes a soft, mournful noise and says nothing.

“I couldn’t have swam through a storm without you,” he says, “that kid, he would’ve died without you too.”

He remembers how powerless he’d felt then, trying to swim against the tide with an armful of a 6 year old and getting nowhere, like trying to fight against the pull of quicksand. He remembers the merman doing it with ease, how seamlessly they’d worked together to get the kid to shore, to revive him.

“You should be more careful,” the merman mumbles, “and not fall off of your boat.”

“I’ll try.”

He looks up at Baze again, finally, and sighs, “it would be easier if you were a merman too.”

“Maybe,” Baze says. His hand slips to the side of his face and the merman leans into it, “you’re like a cat.”

“Those furry things?”

“You’ve never seen a cat?” he asks as he slides his fingers along the line of his jaw and down to his gills. They’re wet, unlike the rest of him, and slick like an eel. The merman makes a noise not unlike a human whimper and Baze pulls his fingers away. “Sorry.”

“It feels nice. No one ever touches me there,” he sighs out and shoves himself up, his hands in the empty space between Baze’s legs.

He shifts just a little, both of his hands held up and out of the way because otherwise he’ll get ideas of where to put them. The place where the merman’s torso meets his tail rests on Baze’s shins, the rest of his tail stretched out on the deck. “Oh.”

The merman’s tongue swipes over his own lips and he inhales. His webbed fingers wrap around Baze’s left hand and presses it against his neck again. A shiver ripples through him, “will you do it again?”

Anyone could come and interrupt them. He’s freezing. His legs will hate him all night. He rubs his fingers along the seams of the gills; the wetness here must be what keeps him able to breathe out of the water. The merman makes the same noise, his mouth hangs open and he tips his head to the side so that Baze can get a better look.

“You won’t suffocate?” he asks, his voice hoarse and he swallows as the merman’s hand drops to the deck with a loud thump. The position can’t be comfortable, but the merman doesn’t seem to mind.

“You don’t suffocate when you swallow food, do you?”

“No.”

The texture of his skin is tougher here, not as springy as the rest of him, exactly like a regular fish’s. The outside is definitely more sensitive than the underside of the gills when he runs his finger along it; the tips of them are sharp but his callouses protect him from slicing himself open. He raises his other hand and presses it against the other set of gills.

The noise the merman makes is pornographic and he wraps his arms around Baze’s neck and yanks him closer, demanding in a way that makes blood pool in his groin. The merman leans against him, his body writhing and shoving itself against him. Baze groans and presses his thumbs into the flesh beneath his fingers. The merman’s tail flaps against the deck and his nails dig into Baze’s scalp, sharper than a human’s though they don’t break his skin.

“Gotta be quiet,” he huffs out. The last thing he needs is for someone to come up and see him.  

“But it feels so good.”

He takes a breath and continues massaging his neck, watching the merman’s face as his chest heaves with every gasp that falls from his open mouth, “you’re shameless.”

“Harder.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says, but obeys. He drops one of his hands to his crotch and squeezes-who knows if the merman is the reciprocating kind and he’s not entirely sure if he wants him to either. He can’t keep his eyes off of the merman’s face as it twists and contorts in pleasure. His skin is still cool against Baze but the spot pressing against Baze’s legs is hot, and something leaks from him.

“Captain,” he moans, and Baze feels him tense, every muscle in him impossibly tight and then at once he flops and Baze’s back hits the deck. The merman breaths shudder out of him and he shivers all over, his stomach rubbing hot and slick against Baze’s though not nearly enough to get him off. It should be weird and it is, but he can’t bring himself to care. Even now the merman is beautiful and powerful and Baze would think that he’s got him at his mercy except that it’s clear that the merman is in charge here.

Slowly he stops shivering and lays still, his breaths coming more regularly and his arms still wrapped around Baze’s neck.

“Baze,” he says, and runs his fingers down the length of the merman’s spine, “you can call me Baze.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed by now I'm just taking things I like about all fish and mammals and chucking them on to mer-chirrut lmao. 
> 
> BTW Baze is just being cautious as is his nature re the not being sure if he wants Chirrut to reciprocate haha will he let Chirrut touch on him next time they have relations? Probably(definitely : |)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Love you guys!! As always hit me up on haku23.tumblr.com if you want to chat!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No fish sex this chapter, friends! This chapter doesn't take place directly after the last one.

 “Here,” he says and tosses a fish. The merman catches it, and looks from the fish to Baze.

“A fish?”

“I thought you might be hungry.”

He’s never seen the merman eat, so it’s not an entirely selfless gift but then he doesn’t think the rock was either. His teeth are sharp, but more like a shark’s than an eel’s; if he ever decides to bite Baze it might take more force than just a nibble to slice him up.

“You should keep your fish, you need them to sell to the other humans, don’t you?” he asks, still looking from the fish to Baze as though trying to parse some hidden information. His tail flaps against the deck as Baze crosses the deck and takes a seat, legs crossed as usual. He should get a cushion if he’s going to make more of a habit of it.  

“One fish isn’t going to bankrupt me. Take it.”

“I didn’t give you that rock because I wanted something in return,” he says. His eyes narrow and Baze shakes his head.

“I’m not that cheap that I’d give you a fish in return for that.”

“You aren’t? Your crew, they always say ‘Captain is so cheap’ when you’re up in your cabin.”

Maybe the merman can’t cut him up easily with his teeth, but his words on the other hand... Baze grunts, “they just want more money.”

“I’ll talk to them next time they say it,” the merman says with a grin.

“How many times do I have to tell you?”

The merman laughs, and Baze watches him. Watches the way his eyes close and his gills flap with every exhale. He’s a picture of bliss in that moment; Baze has to avert his eyes for a moment just to keep the memory of the other night (among other things) from rising. It’s too early to be thinking like that.

“If you told them we wouldn’t have to hide, I could come up whenever you wanted.”

“You’d never come up.”

The merman laughs again, and Baze can’t help but join him-he feels transparent when he’s talking to him, like he doesn’t have to sugar-coat anything because the merman sees through his words to the heart of their meaning. He feels understood. It’s a nice feeling.

He slams the still wriggling fish against the deck and Baze jumps at the sudden sound, “it was suffering.”

“Probably.”

“It was, I can tell,” the merman says. He stares at Baze for a moment, and then looks away and bites into the fish. It’s brutal, his lips turning red with the fish’s blood, each bite punctuated by the cracking of bones and tearing of flesh. But he can’t look away. He sits and keeps watching.

“You eat the bones?” he asks, and the merman looks up.

His first reply is unintelligible by virtue of the merman’s mouth being full, and then he swallows and tries again, “no, I’d choke. You know as far as fish goes, I do prefer Wrasse.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

The merman shrieks with laughter-different than his usual tone-and flops sideways, landing with his head on Baze’s lap. He takes another bite of the fish and holds it up by the tail, “would you like some? I can share.”

“No, only idiots eat fish straight from the ocean.”

“Well it’s not my fault your human body can’t handle fresh food.”

His human body also can’t tear through an entire fish, but he doesn’t say that or the merman might get strange ideas on how he could help. He watches the merman continue to eat, his mouth dry like. He takes a breath and tries to expel that thought-he’s not a teenager, and there’s nothing hot about a fish eating a fish. But the merman does sound like he enjoys it, and Baze isn’t exactly a popular date around town. If the merman notices him watching he doesn’t say anything, but he makes short work of the fish regardless then tosses the remainder over the side of the boat.

“You’re a messy eater.”

“I am?”

He must be drunk, he feels bold enough to swipe his thumb across the merman’s mouth, “you’ve got blood all over you.”

“Oh, that. Well, you didn’t give me any of those-what are they called? The things you cut things with?”

“Knife?”

“You didn’t give me a knife.”

“I wasn’t aware merpeople used utensils,” he says, deadpan, and the merman laughs. He laughs less when Baze shrugs off his jacket and starts to use it to wipe his face with the addition of some saliva.

“I can clean myself!”

“Stop moving.”

“You spit on me!”

“Well I don’t have any water.”

The merman settles, and Baze lets his jacket drop. “How come you didn’t let me touch you the other night?”

“What?”

“I would have, you know, I’m not a selfish lover,” he taps on Baze’s knee and moves his finger with every tap until it’s on Baze’s inner thigh, “I wouldn’t cut you or anything.”

“It’s not about you.”

“What is it about? You always do that,” the pout is clear in his voice, and Baze wonders at whether all merpeople are prone to that behaviour or if it’s just this one.

“Do what?”

“Be mysterious. You can talk to me you know. It’s not like I have anyone to tell your secrets.”

He shrugs, “you never talk to me.”

“Yes I do.”

“You don’t have anyone else?” he asks. The merman stops tapping.

“Some of you humans can be destructive.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet, but neither feels the need to fill the silence. He realizes at once; the fish wasn’t the only one suffering.

\--

“Come on, Baze, we know you’re talking to it,” the other man says. He grins and leans forward, his hand wrapped loosely around his beer, “I’m sure you can tell it to give us a little bit of help too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He doesn’t pause long, just enough to give his response before he tries to head further into the bar. It smells like cigarettes and booze; not exactly a surprise there.

“Don’t be like that, you should help your brothers out; don’t hog the luck for yourself.”

He doesn’t dignify it with a response. He wants to tell them the merman isn’t lucky, that he’s mostly just a fish-finned annoyance but even that doesn’t feel right. He finds a booth far enough away from the rest that he probably won’t have to yell to speak. Kaya is late; but then she’s not exactly known for her punctuality, especially on work nights.

When she arrives they split up for a moment for him to get their drinks and then he settles back in place.

“So, what’s up?” she asks. She has a smudge across her cheek of something that she hasn’t bothered to clean off, and she still wears her stained overalls from the job site.

“You’re right,” he says and takes a sip of his drink.

She looks at him for a minute and he shakes his head, “about everything.”

“You’re ready to call it quits? Now?”

“I’m not getting any younger.”

“No, but-Baze this isn’t because of what happened last month, is it?” her face is creased in concern and he shrugs. 

“I’ve got money saved, no kids, no wife.”

“You could have both of those things; it’s not too late, you know,” she says, and she’s right about that too but.

“It’s not for me. Either of them.”

She looks at him, really looks at him in the low light of the bar and he wishes that the place were darker. She smiles, “what about a husband then?”

It’s not a big deal, and she says it like it isn’t; she’s not like his parents who until the day they died were trying to set him up with girls. She’s a modern woman-there was never any doubt that she would accept it, or that Kili will too, but.

He takes a drink and she pats his hand, “you’re lucky, I hear beards are in style now.”

"It's not a beard," he says, "it's a goatee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hardest conversation to have is not that you're gay but that you're in love with a merman... lmao but that comes later :p. Kaya is an engineer in this fic! She works onsite and gets dirty all the time lmao. 
> 
> Also, while Baze is seeing Chirrut as the one who is suffering he's also seeing Chirrut "see" his own unhappiness with what he's doing(let him be an artist!!!!). They're both just lonely old dudes who are drawn to the only other being in the world possibly that understands them lmao. 
> 
> Thanks for reading as always! <3 Join me over at haku23.tumblr.com if you want to chat, sometimes I post really out of context previews for future chapters as well lol.


	7. Special chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, this is a special chapter I wrote as a thank you for 50(?!?!?!) subscriptions and y'know, the kudos and comments that you shower on me <3\. I'm honestly so grateful for the response and kindness you've shown me about this silly fic so it's a double update today! This chapter is from Chirrut's point of view and takes place after the last but there's not much in the way of advancement of the main storyline anyway :p.

When his head breaks the surface he blinks away the rivulets of water that slide down his face. It’s not that it’s going to hinder his sight of course, but it’s a habit. His ears attune themselves to the sounds-gulls, boats, people yelling-and the smells-salt, fish, an acrid stench he’s come to associate with humans-above the waterline. He holds himself up and sniffs until he finds the scent he’s looking for and ducks below the water again. He’s heard humans say that sharks can smell a drop of blood in the ocean, he wonders what the equivalent is for him for a moment before continuing his search.

It’s easier hearing the echoes of sound that bounce back at him beneath the waves, and it helps that Baze keeps his boat somewhere familiar.  Chirrut swims past the large rock on the bottom, past the barracudas that make the dock their home, and reaches his hands out. His fingers brush the hull of the boat, and he pops up out of the water again. The ship is a decent size, though not as big as some of the others and holds a crew of about 15 though if he had anything to do with it it would just be Baze out on the ocean. But, well, he’s not exactly a killer unless he has to be for food or protection and he doubts that Baze would take him making his crew disappear with any sort of good humour.

He smells cigarettes after a moment, and what must be the stuff Baze uses to clean his hair. It’s a slightly spicy scent, but mostly fresh like breaking through a kelp forest. He lays back in the water and whistles, and waits.

“There you are,” Baze says. His voice deeper than Chirrut’s and he is very good at sounding gruff while everything else-his scent, his voice-speaks to how happy he is that Chirrut has come. He’s heard the crew talk about how irritable Baze is in the morning but he hasn’t seen it himself.

“Did you miss me?” he asks and grins. He doesn’t wait for an answer before ducking and propelling himself out of the water. The first few times he’d done this it had been difficult, his hands not finding anything at all to grasp onto on the smooth sides, but now he knows where he is. He knows where his handholds are. He knows by Baze’s heartbeat where _he_ is and doesn’t miss how it gets faster when Chirrut flops over the railing.

“I didn’t.”

“You know if you lie you’ll get reincarnated as something bad.”

“Like a merman?” the smile is in his voice and in how his body is already there when Chirrut leans forward. Baze always sits with him and lets him press their cheeks together, even when he visits again at night. Humans have strange courtship rituals, but he’s fairly certain that this means Baze has feelings for him.

His beard is a unique sensory experience; rougher than moss, but not like coral. He likes the feel of it, and Baze doesn’t try to stop him. He likes that too. Something in his chest lightens when he’s with Baze; he’s certain that this means he has feelings for Baze, but of course he does. He might flirt with other sailors but he never goes onto their ship. He never presses his cheek against theirs to listen to the steady rush of their pulse. He doesn’t know their names and say them like prayers when he’s alone. He never brings them gifts. Baze is different.

“There’s going to be some fish twenty minutes from here, I felt them swim by me on the way.”

It’s not that he thinks Baze only uses him for fish; he’s proven that that’s not the case and humans have all sorts of contraptions to find fish but he likes to tell him. Likes providing him something that is so easy for him to find and yet so complicated for humans to catch.

Baze’s hand is warm against his back, like the sun concentrated in one spot, like the water in the summer.

“Thanks,” Baze says. His bicep flexes when Chirrut moves, keeping him from sliding anywhere. He’s strong, Chirrut doesn’t need to see to feel the hardness of his muscles. His stick out more than Baze’s, but Baze can lift him and he’s heavy, Baze is tall but not longer than Chirrut but he still commands respect; Chirrut hears his crew jump to attention when he barks an order. And still he yields to Chirrut, it’s an attractive quality and not one he finds in human men often. They’re all rough without gentleness, demanding, all waiting for him to give them something in return for their cast-off scraps. Only Baze gives him fish from his own catch, and never with the expectation of receiving anything.

“When are you going back to shore?” he asks as he listens. The blood in his ear is like the ocean pounding against the rocks, calm and regular. It’s early, and he has to fight not to start to doze off by pulling back. He can’t see Baze’s face but he likes to act as though he does anyway.  

“Soon. Maybe tomorrow, day after.”

“You’ve been out for so long, it must be because you can’t stand to be away from me right?”

“There’s something I can’t stand-“ he wants to be annoyed, tries to be, but when Chirrut’s hands press against his mouth he feels the smile there. It’s funny that Baze tries. His other hand rises and he tosses away the cigarette. “Be careful, you’ll burn yourself,” he says through Chirrut’s fingers splayed over his lips.

“No I won’t, my skin is tougher than yours.”

He likes the feeling of Baze’s smile. It’s restrained, but he can feel it. It’s private, like it’s just for him. He doesn’t hear it in his voice except when Chirrut is with him and well, he _is_ still a merman, a little bit of possessiveness about it should be allowed.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

“Isn’t that what I should be saying to you?” Chirrut asks, “just because you can stay up all night doesn’t mean you should?”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I want to see you, is that a crime?” he likes being unreasonable. It’s always been how he is-his family had always called him that, and Baze continues trying to sound irritated. He likes Chirrut being spoiled just as much as Chirrut likes when he’s grumpy.

“It is.”

He grins and laughs, “I guess I’m guilty then.”

“At least try to sound sorry.”

Chirrut brushes his nose against his and revels in how Baze’s heart jumps. “You don’t want to see me too?”

Baze has gotten bad at lying. He can’t even try and so now he just says nothing and tightens his grip on Chirrut’s waist. He feels the puff of Baze’s warm breath as he drags his fingertips down to Baze’s chin and leans forward. Baze’s lips are cool when he brushes them against his own and he wonders what they’ll feel like in summer. Humans get cold and hot so easily, they must get warm then.

He inhales as Baze exhales; he tastes like smoke but beneath that he tastes like desire. It’s not an unfamiliar scent; Baze finds him attractive, and well. Chirrut can’t say that he’s not antagonizing him a little bit by trying to smell that on him as often as possible. It wouldn’t be as much fun waiting for the first move, especially after waiting for a good ten years already. He kisses him again and Baze groans.

“I don’t have time,” he says but doesn’t dodge the next kiss. Or the one after that. Every part of Baze’s body yearns towards him, he feels the warmth of his chest against his own and the hot hand against his back.

He sighs, content, but pretends at being obstinate, “Make time.”

“Later. I have to get back,” Baze curls his hand against Chirrut’s back into a fist before he pulls it away and Chirrut forces himself to let him go.

His tongue swipes across his lips, “you’re no fun.”

“I know.”

When he drops back into the water he shivers; later tonight he’ll come back, but for now he contents himself with swimming the length of the ship. He continues following until he’s certain they’re headed in the right direction of the fish and then heads back to the cave he calls home. It’s not far from the dock, just for convenience, but deep enough that most humans don’t even know it’s here.

He finds the hole in the rock face and pulls himself through. The water is cold this far down, but he’s not like Baze; his body temperature mostly regulates itself when needed, he wonders if there’s a way he might get Baze down here. He knows that there are humans who dive this deep, but he can’t ask them how-human languages are terrible underwater and whatever language Baze speaks more so. There are so many inflections, but he’d learned in his youth and so he’s more than used to them by now.

His own fishing has left him with enough fish for the day and so he eats those instead of seeking out more before he settles near the bottom of the cave. It’s not a very large space, but it works for a blind merman with no visitors except the occasional curious fish. The sea had brought him to this place and so he doesn’t complain. He has faith. The sea has brought him a lot of things just as much as it has taken away many too.

While he thinks Baze might find him strange for doing it, but he imitates some of the humans from the beach. He can’t tell if he’s doing the meditating thing right, but they mostly just stay very still and quiet and so he thinks he must be at least close.

He thinks of his family, long since dead, their bodies committed to the deepest part of the sea where they have become one with it again. He used to wonder what he could have done differently, how he could have saved them, but the meditating thing helps. He can’t remember their faces anymore but he remembers their impressions and the feel of their scales and skin beneath his hands before he let them sink. He remembers the sound of their voices raised in a song he will never hear again, the melody made for calling family home is meant to be sung in two parts, not one. It should make him sad, but it doesn’t anymore; he hums the song alone and lets his mind fill in the rest. Sometimes if he feels particularly ambitious he tries all of the parts at once but last time he’d done that he’d scared the fish away for a week. Maybe he can teach Baze part; _some_ humans are fantastic singers.

He resolves to do so then flops backwards; he can have a doze while he waits for night to come.

\--

When they’re out on the deck at night is the only time that he misses his sight. He wants to see Baze’s face bathed in moonlight. But the moon isn’t out tonight; the sky is blank,he can tell by the tide. And so he doesn’t long too much for anything but what he has.

“What does it look like?” he asks quietly. Baze leans back against his torso and stares up at the stars. His hands are in Baze’s hair-it’s long and often tied into a bun or half-up ponytail but now it’s down and loose like waves over his shoulders and soft against Chirrut’s collarbone. He smells like the sea, like cigarettes, like contentment.

Feeling him in his arms reminds him of the first time. He had been the one being cradled then, Baze’s hands running over his head as he whispered to him so fast that Chirrut hadn’t been able to understand him. Back then Baze’s heart had been beating so quickly Chirrut had been afraid at it thundering in his ear, it sounded too quick for a human’s heart. He hadn’t been the only one afraid. Baze hadn’t even known him then, and Baze had been afraid for him.

But now Baze breaths come even. He doesn’t speak for a long time and Chirrut thinks he must be asleep, and then he mumbles, “it’s like when you first wake up. Everything punches through the dark one by one.”

Chirrut doesn’t need to sleep aside from a light rest every so often, but Baze does. He’s chronically tired, works himself too hard; it would be easier if he would just let himself float along, and yet he wouldn’t be Baze if he wasn’t being stubborn, he’s learned that in the ten years since they met. He continues to comb his hands through Baze’s hair and keeps his own breaths soft and slow; his instincts tell him that they’re vulnerable now. Baze hates being vulnerable, but he tolerates it with Chirrut, he trusts him to keep him safe; he likes that part of this most of all.

After awhile Baze’s head drops back against his shoulder and he knows that humans don’t see a bared neck the same as his kind do, but he presses his lips there anyway. There’s no one to see it, no one to smell Chirrut on Baze and know that he’s his, and yet he does it. He thinks Baze would take what he really wants to do a little less well-that can come later and he doesn’t want to wake him anyway.

For now he holds him, and listens to his slow and steady heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that Chirrut's faith a pretty integral part of his character and so what better for him to believe in than the sea which is... just as unpredictable as The Force lol. 
> 
> I'm going off the idea that he had some kind of sight previously, but lost it. 
> 
> You know the loneliest whale in the world?? That's what I was thinking of with the mersong though I think that he'll find that Baze isn't quite able to reach the range of a merman if he tries to teach him so he'll just have to keep singing every part like me when I try to sing One Day More from Les Mis lol.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Baze now hahaha
> 
> This was a double update if you didn't notice, so the previous chapter is also new!

“I want one,” the merman says and reaches for Baze’s cigarettes. It’s nearly daylight, they don’t have much time left. He’s working up the courage to say anything beyond stupid jokes.

He snatches them out of his grasp and holds them away, “they’re bad for you.”

“ _You_ always have them.”

“I’m addicted.”

“So? Why does that mean _I_ can’t have one?”

He shoves the cigarette between his lips and lights it while the merman watches. He leans his back against the railing and stares up at the cloudless sky, “what would you say if I said I wasn’t going to be on the ship anymore?”

“Would I still get to see you?” the merman asks. He hauls himself up onto the railing and sits. He looks so young, his face illuminated by the soft light from the horizon instead of the floodlights splashing across the ship. But then he turns, and Baze sees the lines around his eyes-fine, but still there. “Baze?”

“Yeah. All the time. Whenever you wanted.”

He doesn’t smile. Baze thought he would, but he remains blank and nearly unreadable. He realizes that he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, trying to decide if Baze is just playing with him, trying to sniff out the truth like some kind of bizarre bloodhound.

“You’re telling the truth.”

“Yeah. Why would I lie to you?”

He smiles then, wide, like Baze has just told him the greatest news in his life. The knot in his chest unravels, and the merman wraps his arms around his neck. Baze’s hand finds his waist, and he exhales the smoke he holds in his mouth. The morning is warm, better weather is on the way. Monsoon season too, but he’s used to that at least.

“One question,” Baze says as he glances down at the mermaid’s tail. It’s bothered him since they’d fooled around, though he keeps trying to tell himself it’s not important. But he knows some things about fish anatomy-enough to tell the difference between a male and a female. He hadn’t noticed them before, but now he can’t not look, “what are those fins?”

“Oh, that’s just my dicks.”

Baze inhales. It’s strange being right sometimes, “ok.”

“Is that a problem? I really only use one at a time so it’s not like I’ll-“

“Enough.”

“You’re embarrassed? After being so eager to get your hands on me!” he laughs into Baze’s ear loud enough that it rings and tilts his head away so that the merman can’t feel the way his face heats up.

“What the hell does anyone need two dicks for, you’re just showing off again.”

“Don’t try to act like you’re not impressed.”

“I’m not.”

The merman grins wider-though he’s never stopped grinning since he started-and pulls Baze’s head against his chest. Baze feels his sigh of contentment, and doesn’t stop himself from smiling too.

\--

Being here after selling the boat is a strange experience. Everything is wrong, slightly off-centre. He does it anyway; he’s already told the crew, already told his landlord, already told the merman. It’s early morning and everyone else scrambles around as usual but he feels a strange sluggishness to it all-the season will be over soon and the next one will start but it will be without him.

“You’re seriously giving it all up, Baze?” the dock manager asks as he heads for the boat-not his anymore. He has the look of a concerned granny, clutching his tablet to his chest like a life preserver.

“Yeah. Why not?”

He doesn’t tell him his plans. Doesn’t tell him anything beyond what he needs to know-boat no longer mine, deal with new owner from now on.

“It just seems a shame, you were so good at it…”

He shrugs. It takes skill, but that’s not why the dock manager is worried. “The new guy will still pay the bills.”

“I just don’t understand why all of a sudden-“

“It’s cause of that mermaid, isn’t it? It’s found you a fortune and now you’re cashing out, right?” the man from the other night asks. He’s persistent, apparently, and young-the older men don’t get involved in his business like this one.

“It’s because I’m old,” he says and starts the first cigarette of the day.

“What mermaid? There’s no such thing as mermaids,” the dock manager says. Baze tries to duck away from the conversation but they’re like dogs with a bone. They follow him straight to the boat.

“There is, Baze has been talking to it. I see it come over to his boat every morning, and one of the guys from his boat said he’d seen it loads of times in the last six months.”

Baze stops walking. He hears the two stop too, and then he turns slowly to look at them over his shoulder, “shouldn’t you be getting your boat ready?”

“I. Uh,” the man-kid, really-blinks at him, “You should just tell the truth. And share the wealth, don’t be so greedy.”

“I’m done talking.”

When he stomps up the gangplank he doesn’t look back, but he hears them continue talking.

“You know it talks to other people than you!” the kid calls out, clearly expecting more than the turned back and silence that Baze gives him, “I’m going to get it up on my boat and then we’ll see what you say!”

He wants to tell him that he’d like to see him try, really try, to get the merman up on his ship, that he’s liable to throw him back overboard in about ten minutes if he does succeed. But he says nothing, and eventually the voices fade away.

“Maybe I will go visit him,” the merman says as Baze comes around to the front of the ship. He sits with his back against the wall and grins when Baze glares.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Don’t worry, he’s been trying to get me to come up on deck for a year now.”

“If you keep dangling the carrot eventually the rabbit will do something drastic,” he says and flops beside him for their morning ritual, “and what are you doing up here without me?”

“I thought that if the catch was already out of the bag that there wasn’t any point in trying to hide it anymore.”

“It’s cat.”

“I know, I was making a fishing joke.”

“Funny. And you should still be more careful,” he tries for serious but it’s difficult to manage while the merman is rubbing his face on him.

“You worry too much.”

“You don’t worry enough.”

The merman seems obsessed with his lips lately but he’s not about to complain; maybe he’s just trying to shut Baze up but it’s working. He sits still and lets him do what he wants, though he gets bolder every day. He’ll have to draw the line at open mouth kissing he thinks as the merman swipes his tongue over Baze’s lips.

“No way,” he says with closed lips.

“Why not? I’m not going to cut you.”

“You _are_ going to cut me.”

“Open your mouth.”

“I’m not opening it.”

The merman pouts and rests his elbow on Baze’s shoulder and drops his chin into his hand.

“You’re no fun,” he says into Baze’s ear. He likes pretending to be difficult, but he doesn’t make another move and Baze huffs.

“I know. Later, when I don’t have to talk to anyone with a flayed tongue.”

“I’m not going to cut you!” the merman insists, but he laughs and Baze shakes his head.

“We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chirrut has been alone for a long time lmao and maybe this isn't the first time he's been promised something like that?? :)))) But Baze has already sold his boat I wonder how they'll see each other now O: 
> 
> But I know what we're all focusing on here. Yes, Chirrut has two dicks LOL. And I mean, who can blame him for wanting to kiss Baze all the time even if he does have the mouth of a shark? 
> 
> haku23.tumblr.com is where I'm at if you want to chat! Thanks for reading! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip! This takes place a couple weeks after the last chapter.

The first day he wakes up and doesn’t have to go down to the dock he stares at the ceiling. It’s almost nostalgic, hearing the sounds of everyone else running around getting ready. He taps his finger against the table and stares out the window at the still dark sky with his coffee in hand. Radio calls for a warm day; he finishes up his coffee and looks around the apartment. It could use a cleaning.

He finishes that, and spots the neat pile of laundry ready to be washed. He finishes that and realizes it’s been awhile since he called Kaya and Kili and so he does that and invites them down to his place. By then it’s lunch and he makes himself something for now and later. And then he sits at his table. The apartment is clean, the laundry washed. Nothing needs to be repaired. He takes out his sketchbook and finds himself totally without any motivation to put pencil to paper.

He frowns and scratches at his chin.

The merman. He gets changed and heads down to the dock-it isn’t like he forgot that he existed, but it had been a natural progression when he was on the boat. He throws on a shirt and a pair of jeans and heads down to the water, past the gulls and small crowd of people gathered.

He whistles-it makes him feel like a seal trainer but he still doesn’t know the merman’s name and besides that hollering it into the water probably wouldn’t work-then settles on the farthest point of the pier. He lets his feet dangle into the tepid water and waits.

The sun is high in the sky and it beats down on him while he waits-judging him-he’d promised the merman that he would see him whenever he wanted, hadn’t he? Before he might have thought there was no way that he was waiting, but he knows better now. He whistles again, and watches the lightly waving surface of the water.

“If you’re looking for that mermaid they said that they caught it,” someone calls to him. He realizes it’s the dock manager and pushes himself upwards.

“What did you say?” he asks when he reaches where he stands.

“They caught it. Andrew Tseng.”

He doesn’t believe it at first. The merman plays stupid as well as Baze plays grumpy but he isn’t _actually_ stupid.

“He said it was blind. I told them not to bother trying, but-“

“Where is it?” he asks, “you said they caught it. So where is it?”

He points back towards the dock-he’s sweating and his hand shaking, Baze realizes after a minute. To the gulls. To the crowd. Baze doesn’t remember crossing the pier and dock. He’s just in one place one second and the other the next; he shoves his way through the crowd to the front. To the front where.

“Baze!” the merman grins. He sits bent in half in what amounts to a bit better than a large bucket, under a tiny umbrella. His still fluke rests on the pavement and he leans towards where Baze stands.

He breathes out and gasps in a breath while the people around him turn to look at him.

“You all know Baze don’t you? He’s my-“

“What the hell are you doing?” he notices the tin beside the tub, then the two large guys standing nearby. He could strangle someone; if they play their cards right it might be them. They’re large, but not larger than Baze. They wear t-shirts that show off thick arms that jiggle when they cross them and their attempts at frowns miss the mark on threatening.  

“You didn’t come this morning so I decided to come to you.”

People around him start to talk and he doesn’t let them talk long before he strides over and hauls the merman out of the tub. Only his hands get wet, and the merman has spent plenty of time out of water with him but not in the midday sun. Maybe it’s stupid to be so forceful, but he is. “We’re going.”

“Where are we going?” he asks, seemingly content to let Baze throw him over his shoulder like a bag of rice. He dangles for a moment, his fluke nearly dragging across the ground until Baze arranges him better and holds it up and away from the concrete.

“Hey, where are you taking-“ one of the guys starts to say. He starts to move forward bu his mouth shuts when Baze turns to glare at him.

He doesn’t drop him into the sea like he wants to. He doesn’t say anything even while the merman chatters his ear off about how humans will believe anything he says.

“I didn’t lie, but just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can see the future,” he says and laughs. It dies when Baze sets him down on the inside of the railing of the boat, “where are we? This isn’t your boat.”

“It is. I bought it.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be a fisherman anymore.”

“It isn’t a fishing boat.”

“You smell angry, are you angry? You know they didn’t really do anything bad to me, I think that that guy wasn’t expecting to actually be successful,” the merman says as he runs his hands along the smooth white exterior of the sailboat.

He takes a breath, and notices a patch on the merman’s hip, “what’s that?”

“They just wanted some scales. They think they’ll be lucky, but between you and me I don’t see how.”

He’s careful not to be to rough when he touches the area around the blank spot. It’s not bleeding, but he doesn’t know how much pain he feels. Enough that he flinches when Baze touches the edges. He grabs Baze’s wrist and holds it still. It’s Baze’s own hands shaking now, his own face bathed in a cold sweat, and he takes another few breaths.

“Don’t, it’s not a big deal.”

“It _is_ a big deal,” he insists and he wants to be angry at him, he wants to call the merman every word in the book. But he doesn’t. It isn’t him he’s angry at. He swallows the rough pit in his throat and doesn’t try to touch the wound again, “How’d it happen?”

“Does it really matter?”

“It does.”

“He harpooned me. I fell asleep, they must have pulled me in in a net like a fish,” he frowns as he says it, then smiles, “but I guess I am half fish.”

“Stop doing that.”

“What? Being half fish?”

“No. Acting like you’re alright. You’re safe. I’m not going to tell anyone your secrets,” he says and glances at the merman’s body in search of a wound but finds only a small starburst, not bleeding. Either he heals fast or it had been a small weapon. The merman stares at him for a moment and Baze swipes his free, sweaty hand against his pants.

The merman pulls Baze’s hand to his face. “My name is Chirrut,” he says and Baze nods.

“Alright.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just holds Baze’s hand to his cheek until it stops shaking. The shade from the folded sails drops over them and Baze grunts. “I’m going to set sail. Stay there if you want.”

It’s a strange sight to be sure; him at the helm and Chirrut laid out like a sunbather. He looks like he’s asleep but he doesn’t know if he needs it or not. Either way his tail beats a quiet rhythm against the boat in a way that Baze has come to associate with him being content.

The wind is good, it doesn’t take long for them to get far enough out that he can’t see the port anymore and the other boats are specks in the distance. He isn’t an accomplished sailor, but he does well enough that he can man this by himself; maybe he can get Kaya to help him when she comes. After a few minutes longer he drops sail and lets them drift then heads down below to turn on the radio. When he comes back up Chirrut is upright.

“I’m here,” Baze says over the quiet talking of the announcer and Chirrut lays back down again. He settles in his seat and lights up a cigarette. The first drag takes the last of his nerves with it when he exhales and he keeps his eyes on Chirrut. He doesn’t look any worse for wear, but the spot on his hip is grey and stark against the blue of his tail. Just looking at it makes his blood start to simmer again. Little shits, acting like they can go around buying people like they’re things.

“You should let me put something on that,” he says though he doesn’t know if Chirrut is awake to hear him. His eyes are closed, and even from here he can see the absurd fan of his long lashes. His lips are slightly parted and he makes a noise in his throat like a hum.

“I don’t think I’ll need it.”

“Still.”

“Oh, you want to touch me, is that it?” Chirrut turns his head to say.

“Sure.”

“Alright then. But it’s only going to come off when I get back in the water.”

He has a fully stocked first aid kit below deck, though he anticipated using it on himself before ever needing it for a merman. He brings it up anyway, and settles beside him. “Sit up.”

“You’re a very gruff healer.”

“That’s what happens when you’ve got a trouble patient.”

He decides on some rubbing alcohol and antibacterial ointment, even when Chirrut wrinkles his nose. “What’s _that_?”

“It’ll clean it.”

“It’s already clean.”

“It’s not. How long were you in that tub? Where did it come from?”

Chirrut doesn’t answer, and so Baze tips the container over a cottonball. “It’ll sting.”

He swipes the wet cottonball over his skin carefully, focused even while Chirrut twitches. His scales are bigger than a normal fish’s, but about the same in design and texture. They’re smooth under his hand that holds him still, making the contrast between skin and scale even more drastic. They idiots hadn’t even been careful about it; there are gouges in his skin.

“I’ll kill them,” he says as he rubs his thumb over the scales. He won’t. But he wants to-he’s always had a temper.

“And then what will happen? Someone will come to kill you. And then I’ll go to kill them. And they’ll come to kill me,” Chirrut leans forward and Baze frowns. He presses their foreheads together; he’s probably too old to be making death threats about people anyway.

“You could have hurt them if you wanted, why didn’t you?”

Chirrut is nearly 10 feet long including his tail. Chirrut has teeth that can tear through fish like nothing. Chirrut can carry people through stormy seas; it doesn’t make sense.

“Why didn’t _you_?” he asks. Baze is tall, Baze is not a stranger to brawling, Baze can carry a 10 foot merman over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. He understands.

“I’m putting on the ointment now,” he says instead of answering and pulls away to squeeze out some of the waxy, clear paste onto his finger. Chirrut takes a breath but doesn’t flinch away as he smooths it over his skin.

He wipes the excess on his pants and puts both hands on his face, turns his head both ways to look for any other wounds. He presses their lips together.

His name is Chirrut, and now he’s safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of drama :p. It's not over yet, but ultimately I think this fic is a bit too lowkey for any dramatic battles-this isn't Scarif after all lmao. And Baze is old enough that he's more liable to just hold the guy's head and let him swing at air like "let me know when you're done trying". :'D
> 
> Rucka wrote a great bit about Baze in an interview that said that big, strong people typically are very aware of what they can do to hurt people and so are very careful about how they use that strength so I wanted to bring some of that to this fic in both of them. I also wanted to contrast his strength, and his anger to how gently he is treating Chirrut while he's patching him up.
> 
> Also, no, Baze didn't know Chirrut's name this entire time lmao. Only calling him "the merman" in Baze's POV was a deliberate choice. 
> 
> Thanks for reading as always, friends, hit me up on haku23.tumblr.com if you want to chat!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some merporn in this chapter friends
> 
> Begins at “Shouldn’t you be making breakfast?” and ends at “I need to lie down.” I upped the rating because I think it's a little bit more explicit than last time lmao

He sleeps at sea that night, anchor dropped and the waves lapping against the side of the boat. Chirrut doesn’t join him below deck, but he’s there in the morning sitting on the side with an armful of fish.

“I brought you breakfast,” he says and drops them onto the deck.

“Some of those aren’t edible,” Baze says and throws back the colourful reef fish.

“All fish are edible, Baze.”

“Not to humans, Chirrut.”

Chirrut stares at him then grins, “say it again.”

“Not-“

“No, my name.”

“Chirrut.”

He sighs and flops onto his back, “it sounds much better when you say it.”

He takes a couple of the fish down below with him and Chirrut thuds onto the deck after a second, “where are you going?”

“I’m not eating raw fish, Chirrut.”

“Oh,” he sighs again and walks on his hands down the few steps and into the cabin, “this is where you sleep?”

“And everything else.”

“What does it look like?”

“Small. About two of you long. One of you wide. Right to your left there’s a table,” Baze tells him. Chirrut touches the table and then the cushion of the seating.

“This is soft.”

“If you pull yourself up you can sit on it.”

He watches Chirrut for a moment longer before he starts preparing the fish for his breakfast.

“Do I look like a human?”

He looks over his shoulder and laughs, “your tail is poking out.”

“Well don’t look there!”

“You look like a human with gills,” Baze says with a smile that Chirrut can’t see but echoes anyway. He sits with his hand on his chin, and if he doesn’t look below the table he does look almost human. There’s something off about him, but he would pass as a person at first or second glance.

He turns his attention back to his food prep and Chirrut hums to himself before flopping back onto the floor. “What’s this way?”

“The bed, and bathroom.”

“Right this way?”

“Mm. Two feet.”

He hears the bed shift as Chirrut climbs up and onto it. He watches him lie down and his tail hang off on the end.

“You humans sleep on this? It’s so hard,” he asks then shoves his face into the blankets and messes them up again. He inhales and exhales loudly with a noise that goes straight to Baze’s groin, “it smells like you.”

“Like my back sweat you mean.”

“Mm,” Chirrut answers and rolls over onto his back, his hands and head on the pillow. He looks stranger there than at the table, but like everywhere else he looks ridiculously comfortable and even the weird colours of the bedspread make the blue and red of his tail more vibrant. The smooth expanse of his skin that narrows into the v of where his abdomen is that much more pronounced. Baze notices he’s staring but doesn’t stop-he’s sure that Chirrut can tell.

“Are you going to sleep there?”

“I don’t sleep, but I’ll lay here while you make breakfast,” Chirrut answers. His eyes are half closed and Baze watches as he lowers his hands to his waist and then lower. Baze’s knife hovers in mid-air as Chirrut’s hands smooth along his own tail, and.

“Are you looking?” he asks. He sounds out of breath and Baze huffs out a breath. “Are you?”

“Yes,” he says hoarsely. He clears his throat and Chirrut grins.

“Shouldn’t you be making breakfast?”

He lowers his hand to the tiny counter and Chirrut laughs, and presses one hand against the two fin-like bits. There’s a small opening there, hidden by the scales until the fingers of his other hand spread it open.

“You’re shameless.”

“You love it,” Chirrut breathes. He writhes, his brow furrowed in concentration as Baze watches him slide his hand up and over both of his dicks in turn. “ _Oh_.”

The sound makes him take a step, the knife abandoned on the countertop, and Chirrut’s mouth drops open as he continues the movement. His face flushes-it’s not the only time he’s seen Chirrut’s face like that he realizes and he takes another step. His teeth gleam in the overhead lighting and Baze’s eyes focus there for a minute and how when he notices Baze’s movement he bites his bottom lip. He doesn’t bleed, but his skin _is_ tougher than Baze’s. He tips his head to the side and breathes in like he wants Baze’s scent closer.

There’s not much space between them but it feels like an uncrossable expanse;  he stands, watching as Chirrut continues touching himself. The area around the slit shines wetly and his dicks leak, almost as shameless as Chirrut himself. It’s not as strange as it should be, Baze’s hands flex at his sides and he finally gives in and presses one of them against his groin.

“ _Baze_ ,” he whines as his back arches off the bed. His face is open in its pleasure, though his voice is quiet like it’s only for his ears, like all of this is for him alone. He’s never been an especially greedy man but he would never share this.

“What do you need?” he asks. He can’t bring himself to get onto the bed; seeing him is enough. But then Chirrut makes a soft noise.

“Come here.”

The bed is hard-there’s a joke in there somewhere about other hard things-but he doesn’t notice beyond the first second. He only notices Chirrut’s hands on his neck dragging him down to his mouth. He has to straddle him to get a good angle and the press of their bodies sends electricity up his spine. It’s better than his own hand, better than some half-imagined fantasy he’d had of himself with Chirrut.  

“I’ll crush you,” he mutters, self-conscious all at once and Chirrut laughs and tangles one of his hands in Baze’s hair.

“Is that a promise?”

“You’re too much.”

Chirrut tugs him back down again, his other hand moving to Baze’s waist. It moves again to his ass and squeezes. It’s not like Baze has never done this with anyone, but that had been when he was young and waiting for his cock to decide it wanted anything other than another man. It’d been strange fumblings and posturing that he feels no need to try with Chirrut. His crushes had remained unspoken and unacted upon, until this one. “Can I?”

“What?”

“Touch you,” Chirrut asks against his jaw. His teeth scrape but don’t cut along the line of his neck and Baze shivers. He nods and Chirrut pauses. Baze is about to open his mouth to say something when Chirrut says “it’s one dick humans have, right? Where is it,  just...”

A laugh bursts out of him and Chirrut joins him a second later, “what? How am I supposed to know your weird anatomy?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“I don’t, I swear,” he says between laughter which doesn’t help his case at all.

“You’re ridiculous,” Baze says and reaches back to grab his wrist. He pulls it forward and presses it against the front of his pants, “it’s here.”

“That feels a lot like clothes.”

“I’m going to throw you overboard.”

“Well what are you waiting for then?” Chirrut asks as his hand moves up and down the length of his cock still covered by his jeans. “Take them off.”

He sits back and fights with the button for a few seconds before finally pushing his pants off and kicking them to the end of the bed along with his underwear. He feels exposed-and not because he’s sitting on Chirrut with no pants on. His eyes are focused on Baze entirely and both of his hands rest on Baze’s hips.

“You have very smooth skin.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re hairy here too; humans are very hairy,” Chirrut says as he rubs his hands along Baze’s thighs, “I like it.”

For all that he said he wanted to touch him Chirrut takes his time. He kneads the muscles of Baze’s thighs with his thumbs and only moves higher, closer to Baze’s dick to see his hips snap forward.

“You’re a tease,” he grumbles as the pads of Chirrut’s thumbs slowly circle his inner thighs.

“I’ve never touched you before, I want to see all of you.”

His hands push upwards onto Baze’s stomach and then he shifts and he’s upright and pulling Baze’s shirt over his head. He touches him like he really is discovering every inch of him, his hands firm against every curve of his body and his breaths slow like he can taste him in the air and wants to savour it. His fingers brush over his nipples until they’re hard and then his tongue swipes over both.

“You taste good,” Chirrut tells him and sets his teeth against the base of Baze’s throat while his hands continue to roam over his torso, always moving close but not close enough to his dick for him to get any relief. He is a tease, but Baze lets him do it. He lets him kiss his way up to the underside of his jaw and feels the pinch of his teeth there for half a second. Long enough for him to groan and grab on to Chirrut’s shoulders, “do you like me telling you how you taste?”

Baze doesn’t say anything-what can he even say to that even-and Chirrut nips him again. It’s dangerous, he shouldn’t let him do it, but he does and the moan he tries to hold behind his teeth escapes.

“Oh, you like _that_ ,” Chirrut says. Baze feels him grin against his neck and feels immediately like a bleeding animal about to be devoured by a shark. He doesn’t care. Chirrut licks at the spots on his neck then sinks his teeth into him. He arches and moans loudly as he feels a few of his teeth break his skin but the pain is barely there and Chirrut is pressing his lips to the spots and apologizing the next second. His hand wraps around Baze’s cock and strokes as he continues carefully nipping at him, his mouth moving along with Baze’s body as he tries to stop himself from yanking Chirrut forward and fucking his fist.

When Chirrut crushes their mouths together he doesn’t stop himself from opening his mouth; he tastes blood but it’s gone in a second and Chirrut is careful. He doesn’t cut his tongue open on his teeth, but then Baze’s mouth is just open and he can barely concentrate on anything other than Chirrut’s hand on his dick and the pleasure racing up and down his body. He hears sounds, they’re him, but he doesn’t care enough to stop himself and then they stutter in his throat and he can’t even tell him that he’s cumming before it happens. Chirrut strokes him through it, his lips pressed against Baze’s ear now and saying filthy things he has no idea where he learned them from.

“Christ,” he breathes out as he detaches his fingers from where they’ve pressed into Chirrut’s shoulders a minute later, "sorry. Your hip."

“No, I’m Chirrut. And I told you, it's fine.”

“I need to lie down.”

He drops to the bed and Chirrut pets his hair and kisses the spots where he bit him. He looks unbearably smug and once Baze resolves that once he gets his energy back he’ll definitely wipe the expression off his face.

“Was that okay?” Chirrut asks and Baze does smack him.

“Shut up.”

Chirrut grins, “is that a yes? Are you blushing?”

“You bit me.”

“That’s why I asked if it was okay.”

He’s not about to lie and say that he didn’t like it. Just the light throb of the places where he broke the skin makes him want him to do it again. He shrugs, “it’s fine.”

“Is that all it is?” Chirrut asks and settles closer to him, one of his arms circles his waist and Baze shivers, “you were so loud when I did it.”

“Enough.”

Chirrut laughs and lets it go, “and see, I didn’t cut your tongue.”

\--

“Baze oh my god,” Kaya says, her eyes wide as she turns to Kili and then back to Baze.

They’re arranged around Baze’s small dinner table in his apartment and he sets the last dish down before he asks, “what?”

“What, he says. Your _neck_ ,” she raises her eyebrows and he tugs at his hair, carefully arranging it so that it hangs in front of the marks on his neck. Or so he thought anyway. “Oh _now_ you have shame.”

“Maybe you should have some, asking about the obvious,” he says and pours their drinks before he starts doling out the food. They’re more than capable of doing it themselves, but he does it anyway.

“You look like a shark attacked you, how am I not supposed to ask about that?”

“Leave Baze alone while he’s giving you food.”

He calls them sisters, but he isn’t sure that Kaya always qualifies as one; he’d been an only child, but he’s certain that siblings don’t ask about that sort of thing. Former beards on the other hand… Of the two of them Kili is more even tempered, in some ways she reminds him of Chirrut, but once they dig in to their meal she pauses.

“Well? You’re not going to tell us about the man you met?”

“You’re too nosy.”

“Hiding things from your own sisters,” Kaya says. He fixes her with a flat look and she laughs, “Fine, fine, we’ll leave it at ‘Baze had a good time’.”

He waits until the meal is finished and he’s cleared away the dishes before he says, “I want you to meet him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baze is lucky they're at sea because he can be as loud as he wants : |. If you think Chirrut wouldn't use wanting to "see" Baze as an excuse to grab him and touch him at every available opportunity then IDK what you're thinkin haha 
> 
> Playing fast and loose with shark anatomy as usual lmao. Baze probably feels bad about digging his fingernails into Chirrut at first and then sees his neck and he's like "I take it fuckin' back" lmao. 
> 
> I wanted to be finished this by the end of May because ~mermay~ but looks like you're stuck with me for a little while longer haha
> 
> Thanks for reading and as always you can chat with me over at haku23.tumblr.com :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before y'all start reading have you seen this art that Naniiebim did??? That has absolutely slayed me?? Check it out if you haven't already(but I'm sure you have because seriously if you aren't following yet what are you doing!)
> 
> http://naniiebimworks.tumblr.com/post/161360468883/merchirrut-and-captain-baze-thanks-haku23
> 
> http://naniiebimworks.tumblr.com/post/161401917243/he-may-be-overjoyed-if-you-go-for-a-swim-in-the

Kaya and Kili step on to the boat with twin nods of appreciation. Kaya wears a shirt that isn’t smeared with oil or god knows what for once, and Kili has on a hat larger than a dinner plate with a pair of huge sunglasses. They both smell like sunscreen, and Baze makes a note to get some himself or else he’ll be the one wearing a stupid looking hat.

He shows them around the small space below deck-dining area, the tiny galley, and both sleeping areas.

“It’s awfully presumptuous of you thinking I’m ever sleeping on a boat,” Kaya says with a grin and Baze shrugs.

“It’s not for you.”

“Oh, so for your hookups. That’ll be an awkward morning after.”

“How is it going anyway, Baze, you said we were here to meet someone, but,” Kili looks around the cabin and Baze feels the weight of her scrutiny. She manages to cut to the chase as usual.

“Yeah, Baze, where is he?”

“We’re meeting up with him later.”

Chirrut had promised to be on his best behaviour, but somehow Baze doesn’t think they have the same idea of what that is. Their morning routine hasn’t changed much-on the days he doesn’t sleep at sea Baze heads out to the boat around 7 and sets sail while Chirrut follows alongside or sits like a hood ornament on the front. Sometimes Baze fishes off the side of the boat, but mostly he relaxes and Chirrut either throws fish at him or plays with his hair. It’s mundane, and yet soothing unlike his previous rituals.

“This is a nice boat though, big brother, you did well.”

“You look relaxed,” Kili agrees.

Baze shakes his head, “Enough, it’s not that exciting.”

Kili waves him off just as he hears a thump above deck.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he says and goes before they can say anything.

Chirrut sits on the deck and he grins, “Baze.”

“You’re early.”

“I don’t have a clock.”

“Just. Get back in the water until I call you.”

“Why? I’m already here.”

“Because,” he says just as Kaya and Kili make it up the stairs. He turns to tell them both to go back  downstairs-it’s one thing to tell them he’s gay, it’s another to tell them he’s seeing a _mer_ man.

“Baze, your boyfriend is... A merman performer?”

Kili tuts, “a full-time one apparently.”

He sighs, and Chirrut turns and grins, “I’m not a performer.”

“So you’re what, a merman furry?” Kaya asks.

“I don’t want to know why you’re saying that,” Kili says.

“What’s a furry?”

Baze presses his hand against his brow. This was a bad idea. Three of them as they are all in one room is too many; Chirrut alone is enough when he gets in a mood and now he’s got three of him.

“Take it at face value,” Chirrut says for him and Baze nods.

“Wait, wait. My coworker knows someone who said his son caught a mermaid-“ Kaya says. She keeps staring at Chirrut’s tail like it will magically reveal itself as a fake, but then she spots the patch still missing from Chirrut’s scales and she grabs Kili’s arm.

“That was me. They keep calling me a mermaid and it’s not like I care but I am technically a mer _man_.”

“His brat hasn’t been around,” Baze comments and she nods.

“That’s what I was saying. Apparently soon after the kid had an accident and broke his leg. He’s been laid up at home since.”

Chirrut laughs for a minute before he settles, “well I did tell him that I wasn’t good luck.”

“It cursed him,” Kaya gasps out.

“ _He_ ,” Baze says. He tries not to be grumble but he feels a headache building already.

“Right, sorry, _he_ cursed him.”

“I wish,” Chirrut sighs, “all I can do is look pretty.”

No one disputes that, and Kili looks between them, “so you’re dating a merman.”

“I didn’t say we were dat-“

“Yes, please support us. Baze you haven’t even introduced us,” Chirrut says before he can protest because they haven’t spoken at all about what they are. Apparently they’re dating. It’s not a shock, he assumed they were at least casually seeing one another, but.

“He’s never been one for convention,” Kili tells him, “I’m Kili, Baze’s older sister.”

“I’m Kaya. I didn’t hear your name.”

“Oh I don’t give it out for free, but if you pay me one million dollars I’ll consider it,” Chirrut grins, and Baze sighs. By the look on her face he can tell Kaya is already charmed; Kili will take more convincing but he, unfortunately, is certain she’ll fall by the end of the night. She appreciates straight shooters, and Chirrut can’t do anything but.

“Charlatan,” Baze says and Chirrut pushes himself up onto the side of the boat.

“How did you two,” Kaya starts and she shrugs like she can’t come up with a better wording, “meet?”

“I saved Baze from a shark. He was overcome at the size of my-“

“No,” Baze shouts and stops himself short of covering his mouth with is hands, but only barely.

“Courage. What did you think I was going to say? My-“

Both of his sisters look on as this time he does shove his hands over Chirrut’s mouth and turn and walk back down below deck. He’s never thought of he and Chirrut as strange, but now with other people seeing it he realizes it. It doesn’t bother him as much as it might have before.

“Don’t talk about your dick in front of my sisters.”

“Why not? It’s just a dick; will they get jealous?”

Baze sighs. He refuses to believe Chirrut is that obtuse, and so that means he’s being that way on purpose for fun. “I want them to like you.”

“Humans have strange courting rituals. Why wouldn’t you want them to know that I can provide?” he sounds genuinely confused, and so Baze chalks it up to a merman thing. Or at least he wants to believe it is.

“That’s not what’s important, this isn’t an arranged marriage.”

“Should I have brought them gifts? Or a. What do you humans call it...a dowry?”

“Didn’t I just say... Kaya already likes you, and once she does Kili won’t take long,” he mutters in his ear. He doesn’t even want to think what he’d bring as a dowry. Fifty fish? He snorts at the idea and when he tells Chirrut he laughs.

“I’ll bring lunch. I’ll try for fifty fish.”

“I got it. Don’t do anything, just come down and make small talk or something,” he shakes his head at his own suggestion. 

Kaya had been the last person he brought home to his parents, long before he knew what he really wanted, and so the memory is fuzzy around the edges but he think it had went well. They’d hounded him for years to marry her. But Kaya and Kili aren’t his parents, they’re not even blood or legally related to him but they’re his family. He feels his hands start to sweat at the thought of rejoining them with Chirrut in tow-he’s too old to be worried about them accepting boyfriends or whatever he and Chirrut are and yet.

“Don’t be nervous,” Chirrut says. His voice is calm like the sea is right now, and he brushes Baze’s hair back from where it’s fallen into his eyes, “we’ll chat about _current_ events.”

Baze rolls his eyes, “let’s just get down there.”

\--

As it turns out Chirrut does happen to be a decent conversationalist, having absorbed bits of human culture and history from even Baze’s time. He paints a picture with words and impressions alone of the time before the dock was as busy but doesn’t linger too long on anything and Baze can tell he’s being deliberate about it, not giving out too much information. He wonders if it’s because he can sense Baze’s nerves, or if it’s his own that keep him chattering away while Baze makes lunch.

Either way, Kaya keeps probing him for more information while Kili watches; their two-pronged attack, he recognizes it from personal experience. He sets the food down in front of them and refills Kili’s tea before sitting.

“So, what do you like about Baze?” Kili asks now that Chirrut’s been fully lulled into a false sense of security.

“What do I like about him?” he asks and looks down at the rice on his plate, “I’m not allowed to mention it. Just kidding, I’m kidding, don’t glare at me. What isn’t to like?” 

“Expand on that,” Kili says and leans forward, her hands steepled in front of her chin. He’s glad that Chirrut can’t see the way she stares at him-she looks every bit the retired school teacher that she is.

“Just eat your lunch,” Baze grumbles and she holds up a hand.

“There are a lot of things I like about him. He’s kind, even when people aren’t around to see, that’s the most important thing.”

“Enough, I’m not a high schooler, I don’t need you interrogating people,” Baze says but he ducks his head and starts to shovel food into his face anyway.

“Is he blushing?”

“He is,” Kili confirms and Baze starts to consider the merits of just jumping overboard and never coming back.

“What does it look like?”

She pauses for a minute, like she can’t find words, “very red.”

The answer doesn’t satisfy Chirrut, he can tell by the way he doesn’t smile softly like he does after Baze describes something to him, but he nods like it does. Baze reaches beside him and grabs his hand that rests beside his bowl and holds it against his cheek. His face burns hotter, as his sisters look at him, eyebrows raised.

“It looks like that,” he says, and Chirrut smiles.

\--

He drives Kaya and Kili back to their shared apartment when the sun has long since set and the lights from the buildings come on to replace it. Kaya is buzzed on cheap beer and dozing in the backseat, while Kili is leaning, pensive and slightly sunburnt, against the closed passenger’s seat window.

“You’re good for each other,” she tells him while they wait at a red light. He looks at her and sees her smile, “I’m glad you found someone.”

“It’s not that serious.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” she says and he turns is attention back to the stream of lights ahead of them.

“You should come out more often. The sea air is good for you.”

“I hope you don’t plan on lecturing me about _my_ health,” she raises an eyebrow at the package of cigarettes in the cupholder.

“I’m not. But the air in the city is shit.”

“You’re right on that, but I wouldn’t want to intrude on your love nest.”

He doesn’t tell her to shut up, but he glares and that says it well enough. “It’s not an intrusion.”

“I like my shitty city air and closet sized apartment,” she says and that’s the end of it. She helps him lug Kaya out of the backseat and up to the door though he doesn’t need it. He heads back for the elevator and pretends he doesn’t hear her coughing behind the closed door of her apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baze: I'm not a high schooler!!!! *probably runs off like a high schooler*. 
> 
> He looks relaxed because he's got THAT MER-D I mean what. I'm not sure what Baze thinks they were doing other than dating but y'know I feel like they're past the point of "idk let's just sea(ahhhhh) where it goes". Might just be me though :p. 
> 
> Kili probably isn't going to die in the course of this fic just cause it would feel too much like fridging, but she's not well.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick jokes, dick jokes everywhere.

The sun is bright, and the water is clear and warm as he dips his feet in. It’s clearer than his phone screen anyway-he tilts it one way and then the other before squinting and finding the settings menu. He mutters to himself about stupid technology for a moment as he navigates it; if he could he’d have a landline, but service is spotty even on a cellphone out here. There’s only so many people that it could be messaging him though, and he just manages to turn up the brightness enough to see when he feels a hand seize his ankle. From there has exactly two seconds to set his phone and reading glasses aside before he’s yanked into the water.

Chirrut sounds different below the surface, more melodious, while Baze can only yell around bubbles. The water is warm, though, and his boat isn’t going to sail away on its own. He breaks the surface of the water and pushes his hair out of his face.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

Chirrut laughs, and leans back. His gills flap with every laugh that bursts out of him and his hands slap the surface of the water, “I’m the one dying, you should have heard the sound you made.”

“You sound like a seal,” he grumbles as he pulls himself up and back onto the side of the boat. His shirt and shorts cling to him and he struggles against the suction of his shirt to his chest for a minute before slapping it onto the deck.

“If I’m good will you give me fish?”

“You’re never good, I wouldn’t need them.”

Chirrut positions himself between Baze’s legs, his elbows rests on his thighs, “the other day it sounded like I was pretty good.”

He huffs, and Chirrut looks up at him, “you’re too easy.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Who were you talking to?” he asks and Baze gives in to the urge to rub his and over Chirrut’s short hair. He wonders if it ever grows, or if it just stays that way through merfolk magic.

“Kili I think.”

“You humans like to make things difficult for yourselves, why not just call?”

He shrugs, and Chirrut pushes his head into Baze’s hand, “she’s sick.”

“She’s fine.”

“She isn’t.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his hand stills and Chirrut pulls himself closer and rests his head on Baze’s lap, his arms wrapped around his hips. “She should come down here more often.”

He grunts and Chirrut moves. He braces himself on the side of the opening and Chirrut pouts.

“I know your tricks already,” Baze says. He picks up his phone and reads his texts outloud while Chirrut lays still and quiet, only giving him a soft hum every so often to let him know he’s listening. They’re mundane and boring-“how is everything going?” “good”-but Chirrut looks up when he’s finished.

“Is that all?”

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I want to talk to Kili. Tell her that Chirrut told her to come over,” he says and Baze laughs.

“Good luck with that.”

“What’s luck got to do with it?”

He waits for a few minutes before he reads the reply, “tell your boyfriend that some people have things to do.”

Chirrut grins, “okay now you tell her I have _things_ to do too, like suck-“

“No.”

“Cessfully making sure that Baze has food to eat.”

Baze shoves him into the water and Chirrut shrieks with laughter before disappearing. He doesn’t know where he goes, just that wherever it is it has fish. He always brings back Baze an armful, though half of them are typically not something he’d eat. At this point he thinks that he must do it on purpose, but it doesn’t matter. He takes the time alone to draw or read something inane on Weibo.

‘Did you get the email from Kaya’s friend?’ Kili asks while he’s in the middle of a post about someone’s dog.

‘I got it.’

‘Are you going to do it?’

‘Don’t know.’

She doesn’t ask anything else and he goes back to the dog. He wonders if Chirrut would be opposed to a dog for a few minutes before discarding the idea; more like the dog would opposed to living on a tiny sailboat. He moves on, and opens the email from a few days ago before sending a response.

When Chirrut comes back it’s with fish and.

“No.”

“What?”

“You know what,” he says in the general direction of. It. He’s seen sea cucumber whole before, but those times had been enough. It wiggles on the deck along with the fish before Chirrut picks it up in two hands.

“But there’s so much of it, you could make a meal out of it,” he says. It looks like a baseball bat in his hands, or something else. He’s sure that’s exactly what Chirrut had in mind when he grabbed it.

“I’m not making anything out of it,” he mutters as he picks through the fish and tosses back the ones that are too small or just not at all edible.

“But it’s so big,” Chirrut says and sputters out a laugh, “Baze, look.”

He wants to not laugh at him holding a sea cucumber like a dick. He wants to be an adult.

He can’t.

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, but the impact is probably lessened by how he keeps laughing, “how old are you? You don’t need any more dicks.”

“Come on, make something out it, I know that you humans eat these.”

They do, but he doesn’t have the ingredients or patience to bother with it right now. Not to mention the space to clean it out and he’s not about to willingly eat sand. “Throw it back, next time I’ll make you something with it.”

“What will you make now?”

“Grilled fish, what else?”

“I’m using your phone,” Chirrut says and tosses the monstrosity over the side of the boat before finding Baze’s phone on the nearby bench.

“Bother Kaya.”

He hasn’t taught Chirrut how to use the phone specifically, but he already has it set up for accessibility and so he’s figured it out mostly on his own. It’s strange to see him using human technology like that but he wonders how it might help him. He gets along well without is sight, obviously, but there has to be other things that he’d like to be able to do. He listens to him chatter a message to be transcribed and then play it back.

“That’s not what I said!”

Baze laughs and goes back to preparing the fish. Maybe technology isn’t advanced enough quite yet.

“I can hear you laughing,” Chirrut yells down the stairs, but his tail thumps against the deck above him like he’s content and Baze looks towards the entrance.

“I can hear _you_ yelling at a machine.”

“It keeps saying stupid things,” he whines and continues, “if you love me you’ll get up here and help me.”

Baze stops. It’s like everything, even the gentle lapping of the waves against the boat stops and time is telling him this is important. His answer is important. He might be able to describe things, or tell Chirrut off but now he just stops. His words lodge in his throat.

He says nothing, and goes up the stairs. When he reaches the top Chirrut grins in his direction, “I guess you do love me after all, I was starting to get worried it wasn't mutual.”

“What do you want to say?” he asks and carefully takes the phone from his hands. Their fingers brush. Chirrut is cold, but Baze is hot, every inch of him like he’s on fire. It’s stupid. He shouldn’t have such a strong reaction. He does anyway. He’s in his fifties and he’s thrown into turmoil because someone said the word love.

“I want to tell her that you won’t cook me sea cucumber and that she should come over and make you.”

He scoffs and Chirrut leans against him when he sits down beside him, “I’ll tell her you’re bringing me impossible to work with ingredients and demanding food.”

“You’re hot,” Chirrut says and presses his hand to Baze’s cheek, “you’re blushing. You’re embarrassed.”

“I’m sunburnt.”

“I’m not expecting you to say it back, you know. I just wanted to say it.”

He shakes his head, “you didn't say anything.”

“Well you know what I meant. Has no one ever told you that before?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Is it that hard to find a man on land? You’re handsome, so you shouldn’t have any problems,” Chirrut tells him and squeezes his bicep, “I would have had to fight everyone for you.”

“Fight?”

“How else are you supposed to show you’re worthy of your mate?”

He shakes his head-he can never tell if he’s making things up or not but it doesn’t matter. "Don't ask me that."

“Why not?”

“I don’t know how things are.”

“Why not?”

He takes a breath and Chirrut stares at him, but not expectantly. Confused maybe. “I just don’t.”

“Good thing I’m here to teach you then,” he says and flops his tail up onto Baze’s lap, "and that love makes me feel generous."

He doesn’t answer but Chirrut smiles and inhales.

“I’ll make food,” he says finally. His legs are going numb, and Chirrut just drops himself onto the deck, “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I won’t.”

The empty patch on his hip has mostly healed over and though he doesn’t have scales there yet, it doesn’t look at terrible as it did. Chirrut at least seems to have no issue flopping around as he usually does. When he reaches the kitchen again his phone buzzes and when he looks at it he finds an email in his inbox. He should pull the bandaid off. He should look at it. He shoves the phone back into his shorts pocket. Later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme of the fic is pretty much "good thing [Chirrut] is here" haha. Left to his own devices Baze seems to be pretty cynical, so Chirrut is trying pretty hard to make him laugh and enjoy himself. And sometimes that means making dick jokes with a sea cucumber... 
> 
> Speaking of, sea cucumber is totally edible! Though I've never had it myself, I'm sure that Baze has; apparently it tastes like a whole lot of nothin' but is kind of a pain to deal with. TY to Shiparmada.tumblr.com for uh. enlightening me about them lol.
> 
> Baze to me seems like an "acts of service" kind of love-style; he might not say it much outloud, but he says it with his ~actions~ that he loves someone. Chirrut likes saying it outloud, because Baze probably needs to hear it more than he does :')


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lengthy space between updates, friends; I had a busy couple of weeks!
> 
> There's a bit of ~sexy times~ if you wanna call it that in here. If you want to skip it it starts at 
> 
> “Are you a vampire too?” he asks. He touches a finger to the wound; still bleeding, but it doesn’t feel deep. 
> 
> and ends at “I already let you do it before.” 
> 
> Mentions of blood... obviously.

“Come swimming,” Chirrut says and grabs at Baze’s leg dangling in the water. He sets his fishing rod aside and strips down; it’s too hot to stay out on the deck in the sun all day anyway.

It’s never more obvious that Chirrut is built for the sea than when he’s in it with him. A single movement sends him far from Baze, but it looks as simple for him as breathing is. His tail nearly blends in with the depths, though the rest of him stands out making him appear small until he moves and the light catches his scales. He’s like a submarine. Baze says so and he laughs.

“Follow me.”

“It would be easier in the boat.”

“But it wouldn’t be as fun,” he grins, and Baze sighs like he’s put out but Chirrut doesn’t stop smiling.

“All right.”

It’s painful how slow he feels, swimming behind Chirrut who is on his back with his arms stretched out at his sides. He’s slowing himself down but Baze can’t manage to swim any faster. There aren’t many landmasses, but the reef is close enough and they reach the lighter water soon enough that he doesn’t need to stop to catch his breath. The boat is a small speck, but still visible.

“What is it?” he asks and Chirrut dives under. He follows, and he knows there are shipwrecks, but it’s different seeing one up close. Or at least as close as he can get on a single breath. There aren’t any other divers here, but it is around lunch time. It’s an old ship, probably a fishing boat but what’s left of it doesn’t look like it came from this century. The hull is crusted in barnacles and the sea has mostly swallowed it up, and transformed it.

Everywhere he looks he sees fish, or coral or both and he’s seen it before. He’s seen it before but he hasn’t seen Chirrut there amongst them with his hand outstretched. He goes up for air and ties his hair into a bun, his heart pounding in his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Chirrut asks, his brows furrowed. Baze reaches over and smooths his thumb over the wrinkle between them. It feels strange to do it at first, but then not at all.

“Nothing. I can’t hold my breath that long.”

“Oh, I guess humans are strange like that. Don’t you have those tanks you can wear?”

“I’ll see, but I don’t have them right now,” he says and hopes scuba gear isn’t too prohibitively expensive and knows that even if it is he’ll find a way.

When they go under again Chirrut grabs his hands and drags him through the water, so deep that his ears pop, and he has to pull back before he ends up too far. Fish swerve around them in fast, shining streams so close that he can reach out and touch them. He does, and Chirrut grins at him. He says something, but he can’t understand it. It must be his own language, because after a few seconds the fish loop around, like they’re following some sort of order. It’s a cocoon of fish and the water around them is a vortex holding them together, Chirrut’s hands still wrapped around Baze’s. His breath starts to run out though and he has to break through the top of the top and up to the surface.

“What was that?” he asks as he gulps in air.

“Fish are really stupid, they’ll listen to anything anyone says.”

“You can talk to fish.”

“Of course I can,” Chirrut says but he has on a smug smile that betrays that he’s too pleased with himself. “Humans can learn all sorts of languages, talking to fish isn’t that impressive.”

“Stop being fake humble.”

He laughs and pulls Baze against his chest, “there are a lot of things I want to show you, do you want to see them?”

“Yeah. I can’t go very far or I’ll explode, though.”

“Explode? Don’t be dramatic.”

“Humans aren’t meant to live under water.”

Chirrut pulls them both under and blinks at him like he can see the way that Baze’s hair turns from a wet mat to a cloud or the sun rippling through the water and giving them both bright, fuzzy edged scales. His tail wraps around Baze’s legs and he wants to take a breath though he doesn’t need it. He could drown him like this, a foot from the surface, but Baze doesn’t struggle. He doesn’t want to die, but Chirrut isn’t here to kill him.

Chirrut presses their mouths together and as far as shared air goes it’s not the greatest, but he can stay under the waves with Chirrut a little longer. It’s quiet, like hands pressing against his ears until all he can hear is his own blood pumping, but Chirrut tips his head to the side a few times like he hears something that Baze doesn’t.

When they push up and to the surface again Chirrut wraps is arm around Baze and starts swimming.

“There are sharks coming and I don’t want to have to deal with them,” he says. Baze’s body leaves a wake behind them, they move so fast, and despite it not being the first time he’s been in this position it’s the first he’s been able to see it. Chirrut swims like he isn’t dragging Baze at all and he barely uses his arms, just his tail is enough to propel them. It’s nothing like his own attempts at breast stroke and even without sight Chirrut doesn’t need him to tell him where the boat is.

“Show off,” he says when they reach the boat, but he means ‘you’re amazing’. Somehow Chirrut knows. He grins.

“What did it look like?”

He takes awhile to think; he tries to commit it all to memory to draw later but he knows already that he won’t be able to capture it like he wants. Just like he can never capture what Chirrut really looks like to him.

“It looked like being in an alien world. Nothing I knew was the same. How you feel being on land.”

“You’re on land though, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” he says. Chirrut drags himself up onto the boat beside him, “it’s like that.”

“You have a way with words.”

“With nonsense more like.”

“Yeah,” Chirrut says. But Baze knows he means ‘I like it’.

He leans across the halo of dripping water around them and presses his lips to Chirrut’s. His mouth is open like he doesn’t expect it, and then he’s pulling Baze back with his arms around his neck.

“You kissed me.”

“I’ve kissed you before.”

“It felt different. It must be because you love me,” he says and Baze lets himself be yanked down into another kiss, down onto the deck. Chirrut’s hand slides across his chest and his brain reminds him of the last time he’d touched him like this. He flushes and Chirrut grins against Baze’s mouth, “you’re blushing. Even your lips are hot.”

He doesn’t bother trying to refute it, just keeps kissing him. He tastes blood and pulls back, “you cut my tongue.”

“Oh,” he says and doesn’t look sorry at all. His lips are parted just enough for his tongue to swipe across them and clear the streak of blood there. He shudders and leans forward, but Baze leans back just enough that he can’t kiss him again.

“Are you a vampire too?” he asks. He touches a finger to the wound; still bleeding, but it doesn’t feel deep.

“No,” he says and Baze feels both of his dicks press just above the waistband of his shorts. His grip on Baze’s shoulders tightens then relaxes. One of his hands sweeps forward through Baze’s hair and to his face. His face is slack, unlike the rest of him and Baze drops one of his hands to Chirrut’s tail.

“You should have told me about your weird fetishes before.”

“It’s not a fetish if it’s my instincts.”

Baze scoffs, “it’s still a fetish. You like seeing me hurt? What did I do to deserve that?”

“It’s a preservation thing. Not that it worked out very well in the end,” he smiles, but Baze can tell it’s fake. He kisses him just to wipe it off of his face and Chirrut sighs like he’s grateful.

He finds the slit he knows is above the pair of his dicks and slides a finger through the pool of slick that’s already started to gather there. Chirrut whines, and presses upwards but Baze pulls his hand away to trail up his side to his pectoral muscle.

“You’re going to tease me?”

“You shouldn’t have done it to me. Reap what you sow.”

Chirrut could throw him on his back easily, but he lays there instead. His tongue follows Baze’s into his mouth and he gasps and arches when Baze’s hand find his gills. They’re wetter than before, since they just came out of the water, and his fingers slide across them smoothly. He watches the way Chirrut’s eyebrows furrow, feels him pull back to take a loud, shuddering breath. It’s almost an accomplishment, getting a merman so worked up except that when their roles are reversed he’s not any more difficult. His dick throbs in his shorts and Chirrut opens his eyes to slits.

“You could stop teasing me and let me touch you.”

“How am I teasing you?” he asks. It takes all of his self-control to stop himself from continuing to massage the skin under his fingers and Chirrut just smiles with his teeth.

“Maybe it’s yourself you’re teasing,” he answers and Baze knows then he’s walked into a trap. Chirrut leans up, one elbow propping him up while the other slides down to brush across Baze’s ass. It makes him jolt and Chirrut swipes his tongue across his lips, “you could do whatever you want, you know, I’m not going to stop you. I trust you.”

“I’m already doing what I want.”

The hand on him guides him to shove his hips down to grind his groin against Chirrut’s tail. He groans loudly and Chirrut’s fingers dig in, “maybe the other way is better, I don’t want to hurt you.”

The last time had left him feeling a bit raw, sure, but they don’t do this every day. He shakes his head, “you can’t hurt me.”

“You still have your clothes on,” Chirrut says and shifts under Baze when he presses his fingers harder against his gills. His dicks are leaking, adding to the slick mess on his stomach and Baze grunts.

“I’ll take them off when I feel like it.”

That won’t be long. The wet material of his shorts is rough against his skin and uncomfortable, not at all like the smoothness of Chirrut’s skin and scales. He huffs out a breath and Chirrut laughs and kisses him again, his hand on Baze once again spurring him in to action. Everything pushes him further to the edge; Chirrut’s hand in his hair massaging his scalp, Chirrut’s lips pressing insistently against his own, Chirrut’s moans as Baze continues touching him.

“Take them off,” Chirrut whines after a minute. Baze can’t think of anything to say and so he just does it and settles himself back into position, “no, come here.”

He moves up, so close that he feels the heat coming off of both of Chirrut’s dicks. His and can’t fit around them all, but he manages himself and one of Chirrut’s cocks and Chirrut’s hand in his hand pulls hard. His scalp tingles with tiny pinpricks that only make him leak more. Chirrut doesn’t notice, at least not at first, and then he grins.

“You like me being rough.”

“I don’t dislike it.”

Chirrut laughs and pulls Baze’s head back, his eyes focused on Baze’s face like he might find something there. He must have, because he moves again, forcing Baze to let go of him entirely and just stares at him.

“What?”

“I want to bite you.”

“And you said you’re not a vampire.”

“It’s a mating thing. You humans have all kinds of weird things you do so you can’t judge me,” he says and Baze already knows he’ll say yes. Every part of him is leaning towards Chirrut and he’d be embarrassed if it was anyone else but him.

“I already let you do it before.”

He shifts like he’s uncertain and Baze presses his thumb against the line between his eyebrows, “what?”

“You’re fragile. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re a broken record.”

“If I cut you too much you’d bleed to death.”

“Then don’t do it. Just wait; who do we have to impress?” Baze asks and Chirrut nods, “what’s going on with you? Don’t say nothing.”

“I feel the sands of time shifting through my fingers.”

“You feel old,” Baze says and erections aside he has to laugh.

“Don’t laugh.”

It’s strange, seeing Chirrut so serious. He hasn’t let go of Baze, and both of his hands now rest on Baze’s face. His fingers find lines around his eyes, and at the sides of his mouth and Baze grunts.

“I’m not that old, Chirrut.”

“I know,” he says. His voice is breathy, like he has to force them to sound calm and Baze feels the shudder when he inhales, “neither were they.”

There isn’t anything he can say, so he says nothing. He wonders if back then when he’d disappeared after the storm if that had been him trying to pull away before he got too close. It seems more his style than Chirrut’s but he tried to keep his distance; it had been Chirrut who closed in.

“The sea brought you to me. I thought I was okay with it taking you away one day but I’m not.”

“So what, an old fisherman is giving you a crisis of faith?” he locks his arms around his waist. It seems important to say what he thinks outloud even if Chirrut can guess by now, “I won’t leave you.”

“Promise.”

“I promise,” he says and pushes back the memory of the email. It can wait a few days more. Chirrut’s eyes are closed, his hands still on Baze’s face and his breathing more steady.

“I have to go away for a couple of days,” Chirrut says after a few minutes. He rubs his face against Baze’s cheek and sighs.

“Okay. I’ll take the time to go ashore. I have some things to get.”

They don’t finish what they were doing, but they eat dinner when it’s time and Chirrut tells him more about the things that he’s made fish do over the years while the sun starts to set. It’s quiet and domestic and when Baze steps on to the dock he can’t help but start to miss it already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COCKBLOCKED....by angst LOL. Love makes you emotional, guys, ok.
> 
> I wanted to write them swimming together awhile ago lol but I only got around to it now :'D. Hopefully Baze will get some scuba gear and then he and Chirrut can explore the depths ~together~. Maybe Baze can go visit Chirrut at home... Though let's be real; the boat is Chirrut's home as much as Baze's now lol. 
> 
> Chirrut's instincts are basically like a spike of adrenaline/anxiety attack like hey, I smell the blood of your mate they're dying better bang to keep the species going!/hey you should mark them as your own before someone else swoops on in!! but then after it's like... he's left contemplating mortality and it's fucking him up a bit?? He's old enough to know that it's just that but it still effects him just a bit especially since his whole family is dead and all LOL. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always if you want to chat feel free to message me on tumblr at haku23.tumblr.com!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fourth of July my American friends. Here, have some slight angst and fish porn at 3am in the morning. 
> 
> Said porn begins at “Who would miss you?” and ends at “Okay?” Baze asks and Chirrut pats him on the arm.

He pulls at the collar of his shirt as he waits at the table. It’s a quiet, hole in the wall kind of place but sleek. The menu is full of dishes with weird names and his beer is something fancier than his usual. He shifts in place and looks at his watch just as the person walks up.

John Chau-piercings, a hint of facial hair, and a casual shirt and jacket that makes Baze once again pull at the collar of his own. He grins when Baze gets to his feet and Baze takes the hand he offers to shake.

“Sorry, hope you didn’t wait long, traffic is crazy this time.”

Baze shakes his head and they sit. His portfolio sits pressed against the leg of his chair and he reaches down to brush his fingers across it.

“Kaya said that you’re not often on land these days; you’re a tough guy to track down, I didn’t know if you’d even answer my email.”

“I appreciate you making the effort.”

John smiles, “no need to be so formal, you’ve got what-20, 30 years on me?”

He nods and John’s smile doesn’t diminish, in fact it gets wider and Baze feels himself start to sweat. It doesn’t go away even when they order dinner and John goes over his portfolio, his gaze lingering long over most of the pages while Baze squirms in his seat. It’s one thing to run for a fishing net and drag it up and over the side of a boat, or to bark orders while everyone scrambles, this is a different beast entirely. He hasn’t felt the touch of nerves like this in awhile.

“Can I ask you something?” John asks in the middle of the inspection. He looks up and Baze nods, “why haven’t you considered pursuing art as a career earlier?”

“Other things were more important.”

“Well you’ve definitely got _my_ attention. I’m hosting an exhibition for new artists at a local gallery next month; I’d love to show some of your work there if you’re interested.”

“I’m interested.”

“Awesome, I’ll send you the details by email. Seriously, Baze, these are amazing-this merman features in a lot of your work; a friend of yours?” he asks. Baze shrugs and John laughs, “if you’re up to it I’d love to see some new work from you to hang up.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says.

\--

Kili and Kaya’s couch technically holds his weight, but it squeaks every time he moves. He smells incense, Kili’s, and oil, Kaya’s shoes in the entryway, and sighs. The room is dark enough, but the sound of cars and buses and people and Kili’s oxygen and Kaya’s snoring tugs at his consciousness. The bed is stationary. There’s no body curled next to him, no tail wrapped around his legs, no soft breaths against his ear. He wonders what Chirrut is doing. It’s only been two days, so probably whatever he normally does. He groans and shoves himself upwards and out the front door.

He descends the stairs with his sketchbook and walks in a random direction. He lights up a cigarette just so he doesn’t have to smell the city-it’s not an ugly place, but not one that he can imagine returning to often. He checks his phone, though he knows that he won’t have any message from Chirrut, and reads over the email from John instead.

When he gets back to the apartment Kili raises her eyebrow at him from where she sits at the small dining table with a tea.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

She nods, “tea?”

“Not that shit,” he says and she coughs out a laugh.

“Kaya has earl grey in the cupboard.”

He sits across from her and she examines him with half closed eyes, “how did the interview go? Well, I assume since you’re sighing about your boy and not that.”

“Well.”

“Good,” she smiles.

The kettle starts to boil and he gets up to grab it. “How was your appointment the other day?”

“Oh, the usual,” she wheezes out a breath, “Baze.”

He pauses in pouring his tea to look at her, “What is it?”

“Kaya, you’ll take care of her won’t you?” she asks. Her eyes are on him, fully open now and he feels the same scrutiny as he had the first time they met. Her cheeks are gaunt and her hair dull but her eyes are bright, sharp. He swallows.

“Don’t talk like that. Of course I will.”

“You’re a good brother,” she says. She sips her tea.

He shakes his head, “don’t act like you’re dying tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow,” she agrees. He doesn’t say anything, and sits across from her again. The early morning light filters through the curtains. The floor feels like it’s shifting beneath him like waves. Kili pats the hand around his mug and Baze grabs her fingers in his as the morning rush begins on the roads below and Kaya’s snoring comes to an abrupt stop.

\--

“I got you something,” he blurts out as soon as Chirrut pulls himself up and onto the boat. The sun is shining and Chirrut doesn’t seem to hear him, he collides with him so quickly. His butt hits the deck hard but he wraps his arms around Chirrut’s slippery waist anyway.

“I missed you,” he says and begins their usual routine. But stops, “you smell like. Who is that?”

“Who is who?”

“It must be a man,” Chirrut says and sniffs him again, his hands tightening in Baze’s shirt.

“I met with a couple of people. Jealous?”

Chirrut presses his lips to Baze’s cheek, his ear, his nose and lips, “yes.”

He doesn’t say anything, and Chirrut holds Baze’s cheek to his. His hand is still wet but Baze feels his shoulders lower even when he asks, “Kili is all right?”

“Worse.”

“What did you bring me?” he asks a minute later and Baze grunts.

“Get off me for a minute and I’ll get it.”

“No, carry me.”

He shifts so that he can pick him up instead and carries him down the stairs, “you’re a pain in the ass.”

Chirrut just laughs and only laughs harder when Baze tosses him down on the bed and a minute later tosses the box down beside him. “What is it?”

“Tablet,” he says as Chirrut finds the tabs of the box and pulls it open.

“A tablet?”

Baze sits beside him and Chirrut drops the box in favour of pressing against his side. He leans against the wall and Chirrut turns his head towards him. His lips are cold when he kisses him and Baze sighs against them.

“Bring me that and I’ll tell you how to use it.”

“Five more minutes,” Chirrut says and Baze abandons any hope of getting anything but this done. “Did you miss me?”

“Who would miss you?” he asks as he turns to him and pulls him closer with one arm. Chirrut smiles against his mouth and goes for what he wants. His grip on Baze’s groin is firm, just on the right side of too-tight and he pouts when Baze peels open his eyes, “I trust you, but you stink.”

“I took a shower.”

“I know. It’s just my sense of smell is probably 100x a human’s,” he says and sniffs, “ _you_ smell good though.”

“That’s uh,” he swallows as Chirrut massages his crotch one handed, “Good.”

“I can smell you from miles away now,” he tells him, proud, probably even prouder at how he has Baze squirming already. “Since you’re mine.”

He knew the stereotype of the possessive mermaid, but it’s different living it. Chirrut’s mouth is open, like he’s breathing Baze’s air and he doesn’t let go of Baze’s dick, just continues to watch him. It shouldn’t get him hard, but he’s stopped closely examining why his dick likes anything at this point.

“Yeah,” he manages and Chirrut shows his teeth.

“Of course I’m yours too.”

“Of course.”

“Do you think you could cum just from me doing this?” he asks and Baze groans.

“ _Chirrut_.”

“What? I’m only wondering; it’s okay if you can’t. Can I try?” he licks his lips and Baze nods. He wants to be embarrassed, but Chirrut’s matter of factness cuts through it. It’s not embarrassing, it’s just an action. He agrees outloud and Chirrut makes a pleased sounding noise in his throat, “Lucky me. You’re not like other human men I’ve met.”

“Oh?”

He might think to be jealous later, but for now his focus remains on Chirrut’s hand and the sensation running up his spine and front.

“They’re all too rough. Merman can be like that too, but humans are worse.”

“Did someone hurt you?” he chokes out as Chirrut presses his thumb against the underside of his cock.

“Not really. It’s hard to hurt me. It just gets boring with how they just want to show how strong they are; not like with you, but I’d let you try it if you wanted.”

He shakes his head and lets himself sink into the pillows. A year ago he would have thought he was too old to be having strange sex with a merman; he can admit when he’s wrong. “It’s fine.”

Chirrut sighs and moves down to keep his hand on him. He kisses the corner of Baze’s mouth, “Would you if I asked you to?”

“If you wanted.”

“Only if I wanted?” he asks and Baze pulls him over to kiss him.

“Stop talking.”

Chirrut shrieks with laughter, but he drags his hand up only to push it below the waistband of Baze’s shorts and Baze presses his hips up, “you smell best like this, you know.”

“You smell like fish.”

“Of course I do, I’m _part_ fish,” Chirrut says and kisses his jaw. Baze doesn’t bother holding back his moan, “you’re embarrassed.”

“Anyone would be, hearing you talk like that.”

“But you like it, how can I not do it?” he asks and continues moving his hand in a rhythm that makes Baze’s head too foggy to respond. He gives up trying to respond and feels Chirrut smile against his neck, “your heart is beating really fast.”

He gets out a grunt and Chirrut knocks another from his chest when he nips his neck. It’s like a pinch, except with decidedly sharper implements and he huffs out a breath as Chirrut sets his entire set of teeth against his skin. The bite isn’t enough to break the skin, but it leaves tiny triangle bruises-more bruises for Kaya to make fun of him for. He wants to twist away, to tell him to be careful but he doesn’t have to. Chirrut moves on and kisses him instead while his hand drags across the wet spot in his briefs.

“You taste so good, and I’m not just saying that,” his voice shakes as he says it and Baze feels him hard and pressed against his side.

“Come here,” he says and Chirrut doesn’t pause.

“I’m not done yet. You can touch me after.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters and Chirrut bites him again. It startles a moan out of him and Chirrut sighs like he’s content. After that it’s just a matter of time before Chirrut has him rubbing himself up against his hand while Chirrut presses teeth and lips to his neck. It’s overwhelming and yet not enough at the same time and he gives himself over to the sensation of rough material against his dick, Chirrut’s hot mouth pulling at his skin, Chirrut’s voice as he says things against his neck that _do_ get him embarrassed.

“You’re so good, Baze,” Chirrut says and he cums, abruptly with a sharp gasp and a moan that Chirrut swallows, his lips finally again pressed against Baze’s. “Are you okay?”

“Stop talking,” he grumbles. He keeps twitching against Chirrut’s hand and he has to turn his head away just to take what feels like the first full breath since they began. He rubs his hand over his sweaty face and twists away from Chirrut’s hand.

“You smell better now,” Chirrut says and Baze can’t help but laugh.

He waits until he catches his breath and the sensitivity ebbs away to turn over again, “Come here.”

Chirrut doesn’t hesitate to wriggle closer and Baze finds the wet place on his torso and presses just the tip of his finger into the hole above Chirrut’s dicks. It’s slick and, unlike the rest of him, hot. Chirrut makes a high noise and buries his hand in Baze’s hair.

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not going to. Be patient,” he says even though it’s hard for him to be. Still, he has to keep things slow and steady while he figures out everything about his anatomy. The skin around his finger yields to it and as he pushes it in further Chirrut’s grip on his hair tightens. “Does that hurt?”

“No. You said you weren’t going to tease me,” he whines and Baze pushes his finger further, “another one. Hurry up.”

“You’re demanding.”

“Of course I am. So hurry up,” Chirrut writhes even as he grins, his eyes squeezed shut. Baze does as he’s told, and Chirrut moans loudly and tells him again how good he is. It sends a jolt to his cock that he forces himself to ignore in favour of pumping his fingers into Chirrut’s hole until he cums with a soft sound. He goes limp and lets go of Baze’s hair before he flops onto the bed and sighs, his face still loose from pleasure.

“Okay?” Baze asks and Chirrut pats him on the arm.

“So what’s a tablet anyway?”

“I have to go away again soon. You can’t get great internet out here, but it’s enough,” Baze says and Chirrut hums. “I’ll get you some books if you want.”

“I’ll be able to talk to you while you’re on land?”

Baze grunts and Chirrut reaches down to grab the tablet box from where it still lays by his fluke, “teach me how to use it.”

“All right,” Baze says and Chirrut settles beside him again. “But first I’m changing my pants.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The email... revealed! ;D I hope there's no issues that come from Baze following his dreams... 
> 
> Chirrut isn't REALLY jealous, just... you know... lightly possessive. He certainly wouldn't try to DROWN anyone or anything for touching his man lmao. That'd just be excessive, and he trusts Baze after all. 
> 
> Baze getting Chirrut some kind of mobile device has always been something I wanted to include lmao just cause I think it'd be cute. Baze cooking dinner and Chirrut listening to some racy ebook just to be a shithead haha but also Chirrut is kinda under water and he doesn't have much access to media anymore which would probably suck ass which is the primary reason Baze got it for him of course. Not because he wants to face time him while he's on shore or anything. :p
> 
> Also I don't know why the sex keeps getting kinkier and kinkier but here we are friends I'm sorry. OTL 
> 
> If you want to talk feel free to send me a message over on haku23.tumblr.com I love to make new pals!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hives for 4 or 5 days which made writin shitty and lowkey painful(do not recommend getting hives on your fingers) and then I was like hey what even is writing?? So this chapter is semi-autobiographical in that regard LOL. 
> 
> No fish sex in this chapter fellow pervs!

Drawing has always-or at least most of the time-come easy to him. It isn’t easy to draw certain things, but he has the drive to keep at it when he has to work at it.

Except for now, apparently.

He stares at the blank page and runs a hand through his hair. His cigarette is almost burnt down to nothing and he’s no closer to a finished sketch than he was half an hour ago. He just can’t figure out what he wants to draw. His sketchbook is full of pictures of Chirrut-who lounges on the side of the boat listening to an audiobook-and so he can’t help but think he should do something different. Drawing has never been something he did for other people to look at. He sighs.

“What’s wrong?” Chirrut asks from his perch.

“Nothing.”

He hears him flop down onto the deck and turns towards him, “keep listening to your book.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing.”

“You should draw me,” Chirrut says with a grin, unaware of the pages of him that already exist.

“Who would want to see that? I told you it’s for an exhibition.”

“I don’t know what that is. Is it fancy? Should you be drawing apples?” he asks and Baze manages a short laugh at that.

“I don’t know.”

“You smell nervous. Why are you so nervous? They already like your art.”

Baze shrugs, “I’ve never shown anyone anything before.”

“Why not?”

He draws still life. It’s not like he comes up with wild ideas and puts them down on paper, he just draws what he sees. That he got a place in the exhibition at all is a surprise. Chirrut bumps against his knee and rests his head on his lap before he heaves a dramatic sigh.

“Come swimming with me.”

“Yeah.”

When he sinks below the surface his mind quiets and Chirrut holds both of his hands in his own. He hangs there suspended in open space but only for half a second before he’s clamouring back onto the boat. “I know what to draw. I’ll swim later.”

Chirrut laughs but doesn’t come back onto the boat. He looks content, floating on top of the gentle waves and Baze smiles and watches him for a few minutes while he waits for the sun to dry him off. But the sun isn’t going to last much longer. There hasn’t been much rain so far, but he isn’t stupid enough to assume that that means it’s never coming.

“I’m going to need to go ashore again soon. Radio is calling for bad weather,” he tells him. He stares at the cloudless sky and gusts out a sigh that Chirrut echoes.

“I can come with you. You have a bath tub don’t you?”

Baze laughs and Chirrut leans on the side of the boat, head pillowed on his arms and his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “I only have a shower.”

“Oh. What kind of person only has a shower?”

“That’s all I have on the boat.”

Chirrut can’t see him, but he manages the mournful look well enough. Baze sighs, and Chirrut does the same.

“If I sat in the shower during part of the day I could be out of the water the rest of the time.”

“It’s fresh water, Chirrut. Come here.”

He doesn’t at first, but then he hauls himself over the side of the boat and pulls himself over to where Baze sits. He drops his torso onto Baze’s lap and sighs again. It’s almost the most pathetic thing he’s ever seen and Baze runs his hand down the line of his back to where the large fin on his back begins. He rarely has it puffed out, and Baze wonders at its purpose though it won’t surprise him if it’s just for aesthetics.

“It’s not forever.”

“But you just got back.”

“I know.”

“Weren’t you going to draw?” he asks and Baze shrugs.

“I can do it later.”

Chirrut sighs like every inch of him wants to loudly protest Baze leaving but he holds back. He almost wants him to. He’s forthcoming about some things, but Baze is aware that he isn’t the only one with subjects he doesn’t want to touch. This feels like one of those things. “When I was younger I used to talk to all kinds of humans.”

“Why not now?”

“People don’t like to leave things alone anymore. You keep coming down, trying to discover everything. You use everything up until it’s a husk and then throw it away.”

“Yeah,” he says. He continues stroking his back, “did someone do that to you?”

He doesn’t answer and it’s answer enough.

“Maybe I can find some way for you to come with me.”

Chirrut nods, but he doesn’t look up.

“It’s not that I don’t want you there.”

“I know _that_. How could you not want me with you?” he asks and finally turns over onto his back so that Baze can see his face. He smiles, finally, and Baze feels his chest lighten a little.

“I can think of a couple reasons.”

Chirrut shoves himself away with a laugh but only succeeds in getting a few feet away, where he lays there flapping his tail and staring upwards. “It’s sunny right now, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. The sun is nice, what are you going to draw?”

“Kili, Kaya.”

“What about me? It’s like you don’t love me at all.”

Baze snorts and Chirrut turns his grin on him, the same one that smiles out from the pages of his sketchbook. “Maybe later.”

“I’ll make myself pretty; then you won’t be able to resist,” he says and blinks at him expectantly. Baze shakes his head; somehow he manages to be irresistible even when he’s fishing for compliments. He doesn’t know if he’d put up with it from anyone else but maybe that’s just proof that the sea brought them together like Chirrut says. But he can’t bring himself to really believe it; Chirrut brought them together. Chirrut is the one who persistently climbs onto his boat and squirms his way into Baze’s life so that he can’t imagine it without him.

“You’re already pretty.”

“Tell me again.”

“Once is enough.”

“It isn’t. Tell me what I look like,” he flips onto his side and Baze looks him over. It isn’t like he’s never thought of how to describe him. But words don’t seem like enough. Or at least, Baze’s words don’t seem like enough.

“You look like,” he shakes his head, “I don’t know how.”

“I’m indescribable,” Chirrut sighs and reaches out his hand to grab Baze’s ankle, “I knew it, I’m too beautiful for words.”

Baze grunts. The sun glints off of his scales, the blue and crimson flashes around his tail like the reflections off of a jewel, and the skin of is human-like parts has gotten darker from the hours spent sunning himself on the deck. His hair hasn’t grown any, but it’s still dark, rich black that is as always contrasted by his opal eyes. Every curve of his body is like flowing water and Baze doesn’t have to continue staring at him to have them memorized.

“Are you staring at me?”

“No.”

“You’re not good at lying. Go ahead, look as long as you want,” Chirrut says and one of his hip fins pops out.

“I told you I’m not looking.”

“Well you aren’t drawing so what else would you be doing?”

He has him there. He drops down onto the deck and Chirrut pulls himself over to drape himself over Baze’s chest. He’s heavy, but the weight is comforting. Small waves lap against the side of the boat and despite the hot sun overhead he closes his eyes.

“You shouldn’t sleep in the sun or you’ll get sunburnt,” Chirrut murmurs, and Baze hums. He doesn’t move, and Chirrut doesn’t try to get him to either.

“I don’t burn, I tan.”

“Oh, that’s okay then.”

“Yeah,” he says. Chirrut’s cheek rests against his collarbone and Baze doesn’t fight the urge to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baze probably tans... probably. But Chirrut is right, he should wear sunscreen wtf Baze!! Also can't believe Baze does not have a mer-compatible tank at his apartment so rude so rude
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> As always I can be found at haku23.tumblr.com if you want to chat!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me forever to update, I'm sorry! Con season is in full swing and I've been out every weekend or working on costume stuff...or...playing Dream Daddy I can't lie LOL.

Baze grunts and shoves the tub the last few inches through the door. There isn’t much room as it is, but it isn’t like he dances around his living room; the only thing he really needs is space to get in and out and to paint. His floors are thankfully not carpeted, but he doesn’t want to flood the downstairs apartment either. He has set a tarp down along the area where he shoves the bathtub to. It’s an old clawfoot and deep enough that Chirrut will be able to dunk his head under the water if he needs to, but it’s definitely no sea.

This is just the beginning though, he still has to lug some sea water up to fill the bath. Chirrut seems unconcerned about salt levels and that kind of thing, but Baze knows that with salt water fish you can’t just shove them into any old water. He still doesn’t know whether Chirrut counts more as a fish or a human; humans probably adapt much better. He pulls on the edge of the tarp to make sure that it’s not going to shift, then grabs the bucket he got the other day. It’ll be a long job filling the tub up bucket by bucketful but he isn’t taking any chances. He starts down the steps again.

“You could probably just use table salt,” Chirrut says. He rests on the edge of the dock while Baze hoists the bucket out of the water.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Despite it being midday the promise of rain has driven many of the usual denizens of the pier off and Baze keeps an eye on the sky as he starts towards his apartment again. He makes it halfway when someone jogs in his direction. He recognizes the kid and starts to walk faster.

“Mr. Malbus!”

He grunts a response but the kid is persistent. And young. He catches up to Baze without a problem.

“Mr. Malbus, I know you don’t want to see me, but I wanted to apologize.”

Andrew Tseng gives him about the most pitiful look he’s seen aside from Chirrut’s. He stops, and sets the bucket down.

“It isn’t me you should apologize to.”

“No, no I know, I just know you’re... friends with him so I wanted to-“

“Yeah. Okay.”

“So you’ll show me where he is?” he asks and Baze sighs. Chirrut probably won’t have any problem accepting the kid’s apology but he can’t help but feel wary of letting him near him again.

“I guess. But don’t try to pull anything.” He must look scary enough to drive his will to speak away because Tseng just nods a few times, mouth clamped shut.

He leaves him by his own boat while Baze walks over with his bucket to where Chirrut waits. It’s ridiculous how Chirrut grins every time he hears Baze coming. It’s more ridiculous how Baze can’t help but smile back even though Chirrut can’t see it.

He kneels in front of Chirrut and lets him paw at his face for a few seconds before he says “that kid wants to apologize to you.”

“It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he says and Chirrut pulls himself up and out of the water. He presses his soaking wet chest against Baze’s and pouts.

“But I guess I should, shouldn’t I? Better late than never.”

“If you say so.”

“Is he going to beg on his hands and knees?”

“You’d like that. I don’t know.”

Chirrut laughs his gull-like laugh and shakes the water from his face, “Only when you do it. Well how do I look? Okay?”

“Hideous. I’m going to get him now.”

Tseng waits at his boat, shifting his weight from one foot to another when he isn’t tapping one of them. When he spots Baze he jerks his head towards the dock and Tseng jogs over still wearing the kicked puppy expression. He follows Baze without saying anything and Chirrut doesn’t manage to keep himself from smiling as Baze walks up even though they just saw one another. Baze similarly fails, but turns his head away so that the kid doesn’t see it-his intimidation loses its bite when he’s seen mooning over a certain stupid merman.

He does in fact beg on hands and knees and Chirrut glances at Baze who shrugs.

“I’m so sorry, I never should have disrespected you in such a horrendous manner. If you can see it in your heart, your amazing, gracious heart to forgive me for my transgressions I promise to live a righteous life from now on. I’ve got offerings-uh-uh-“

“Hmm,” Chirrut says, his hand curled under his chin, “well I guess I can forgive you. But I don’t need any offerings. Unless you have Wrasse. Then I’ll take that. Or oh, what’s that thing that-“

“Thank you, thank you, anything-“Tseng says. He sounds about ready to cry when Baze interrupts.

“No, you’re not getting him a slap chop.”

“But _Baze_ , it would be so useful.”

“It wouldn’t. It’s junk.”

He huffs, “okay then what about a snug-“

“Absolutely not.”

Tseng slowly raises his head to look between them. He’s crying a little, but mostly he just looks confused. “Am I being scammed right now?”

“I told you. He’s bad luck, you all had it wrong,” Baze grunts and Chirrut flaps his tail. Even in the overcast weather he shines like he provides his own light source as well.

“So about that fish,” Chirrut says and hand walks over to Tseng and points at the now healed patch of scales. They came back, but they’re white, and colourless-a true scar on the otherwise flawless scales of is tail, “This hurt you know. I would have given you some if you’d asked. Oh, you can have a tooth if you want, one second.”

Baze grabs his wrist before he goes pulling out any of his teeth.

“N-No that’s uh that’s okay. I just. I’ll get you that fish, thank you for. For accepting my apology I’m sorry it took so long I had an injury not that you care but yeah and then my father he wouldn’t let me come down to the dock so. I’m sorry.”

Chirrut grins and Baze rolls his eyes. “Oh it’s no problem. But you should think before hurting others. Not everyone is so easy to forgive.”

“Of course, thank you for your wisdom I promise I won’t hurt anyone ever again I promise. Does that mean you’ve. Lifted the curse?” he asks, but doesn’t get up, “not that I’m assuming you will.”

“Oh, sure.”

Tseng nods a few times like a very fast bobblehead then waits for Chirrut to turn to Baze before he gets to his feet and takes off.

“Aren’t most people here Christian?” Chirrut asks.

“Yeah.”

“So then why believe in curses? Seems silly to me.”

Baze shrugs, “people want something other than themselves to blame for their own misfortune.”

“Well, he is just a kid isn’t he?”

“Old enough to make up his own mind.”

“And to bring me some fish,” Chirrut chirps and Baze shakes his head and heads back towards his apartment.

\--

He doesn’t bother trying to hide what he’s doing. He just lifts Chirrut over his shoulder and starts walking even when he reaches the lobby of his apartment building and the old lady from down the hall sits on one of the benches.

“Oh my, I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Who’s that? Is that your neighbour?” Chirrut asks and squirms out of Baze’s grip until he flops onto the floor.

“So you’re the one who took Baze away. Well I can see why he’d be so easily tempted,” she says and Chirrut points.

“I like her.”

“You like anyone who calls you pretty,” he says but then continues, guilty, “but she’s too nice of a lady for you.”

“Oh I don’t know, he seems all right to me,” she titters and Chirrut echoes it.

“Don’t encourage him Mrs. Lao.”

She waves her hand at him and he sighs. He’s middle-aged and she still manages to make him feel like the 20 year old that he was when he moved in. Her husband hadn’t liked her having him over so much back then, but then she had fawned over him far too much.

“Heading back to your grandkids’?” he asks and she nods.

“Another vacation, they are doing well for themselves. And who am I to decline an offer for a trip to Italy?”

“Have fun, don’t party too hard.”

“Now, Baze, I’m an old woman what use would I have for partying?” she asks him, but she winks as she says it and he chuckles. “There they are now.”

He leaves Chirrut to help her walk to the BMW waiting for her at the curb and nods a hello to her four grandchildren who all try to help her into the car. She only bats their hands away, though, and he waves his goodbye.

“She doesn’t live with her family?” Chirrut asks when he returns to the lobby. He sits on one of the plush benches looking less out of place than he should have among the blue tile of the floor.

“Doesn’t want to. Too stubborn.”

“So that’s why you two get along.”

Baze grunts and lifts him again, “she got me through a lot of hard times.”

“Oh.”

“I was too stubborn to call Kili and Kaya. Cut myself off for a few years. Too ashamed.”

“Of what?” Chirrut asks. He presses his face into Baze’s hair and inhales as they step inside the elevator.

“Dropping out of school. Running away. Not being what I thought they wanted me to be.”

“What was that?”

Baze laughs, “Who knows.”

“You should have let me get the slap chop,” Chirrut says and Baze laughs again. His chest is wet, but it’s warm, his arms are tired but he feels like he could lift another five Chirruts if he had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Baze bought a tub, he wasn't about to let his man sit out in the sea alone! :p But he probably regrets getting him that tablet. The internet is a wild place lol! 
> 
> I was getting tired of writing super serious stuff so I had to throw some silly banter in just to lighten the mood haha but maybe Chirrut will get a snuggie for Christmas or somethin haha
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm haku23 on tumblr as well if you want to chat!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see :|;;;;;; 
> 
> I wish I had an actual answer to why it's been so long between updates but really it just amounts to "could not be bothered" LOL. Anyway if y'all still care about this fic here's a new chapter! I hope you like it!

Rain pelts the windows in sheets, the wind screams, and when he can spot the water it roils like an angry creature for the third day in a row. Chirrut sits in the tub which is far too small for him and listens to an audiobook on his tablet. He sighs like he knows Baze stares at him.

“I’m bored. Let’s have sex.”

“How many times do you think a human can do that in a day?” he asks and shifts the bag of frozen peas away from his lap.

“But what else is there to do?” he asks and turns onto his front, his tablet dangling from his fingertips over the edge of the tub.

He sees his point, though. It isn’t like some people don’t go out in storms like this but Baze isn’t one of them, and in comparison to an entire sea to explore and play around in a tiny apartment isn’t even close. But Chirrut had wanted it. And now he wanted to have sex for what might be the fifth time today and Baze gets to his feet.

“Alright, get over here.”

He laughs and rests his chin in his hands, “I’m only kidding, Baze, I know humans can’t do it that much. It really is too bad though. Can’t I help with anything? What do you humans do... redecorating?”

Baze huffs and drops back into his seat. “You’ve done enough of that already. I’ll put on a movie. What one do you want; Bad Boys 2 or The Notebook?”

“Which one do you recommend?” he asks and Baze can tell he’s captured his attention by how he stops looking like he’s lounging and leans a little bit further forward over the edge of the tub.

“Depends on whether you want to cry from laughing or cry from sadness.”

“We could always watch both.”

“We’ll watch Bad Boys afterwards then,” Baze decides and pushes himself upwards once again. His DVD collection is meagre, he hasn’t had much time or interest in watching movies in years. He thinks the ones he has were gifts, but he can’t remember in particular. His TV isn’t HD or large in particular, but considering Chirrut can’t see it doesn’t matter much as long as Baze can see to explain things to him. He just pushes the DVD into the player when there’s a knock on the door.

He sighs, and goes to answer it. He expects Kili or Kaya; he gets Andrew Tseng. Who is holding a brown wrapped package and is soaking wet.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Malbus, I-“

“I smell fish and it’s not me,” Chirrut says behind him and Baze gets bypassed entirely, Tseng slips by him and he stares at his back as he says.

“Sure, come in.”

“It took a couple of days but I got your fish. I’m sorry for the delay,” he presents the fish to Chirrut like a peasant giving a gift and Chirrut is loving it. He takes the fish, looking bored for all that he keeps licking his lips. Finding food that works for both of them has always been a challenge; Chirrut likes cooked fish and other food just fine but as he unwraps the paper it’s obvious that his first love will always be raw meat.

“Oh it’s fine, since you brought me something so nice. You’re soaking wet, aren’t you?”

“He is,” Baze answers and before Chirrut can suggest it he says, “I’ll grab a towel. Sit down.”

He hears them talking from the bathroom but as obvious as it is that Chirrut likes the attention it’s just as obvious that Tseng fears him. He wonders if Chirrut can smell it that close-probably, since Baze can see the way his hands shake at his sides where he stands. He tosses the towel at the back of his head.

“Dry off.”

“Oh. I have to go, I wasn’t planning on staying because-“

“We were going to watch The Notebook. Have you heard of it? You should watch it with us once Baze makes food,” Chirrut says. He’s grinning, and all but batting his eyelashes at Tseng and he still looks like he’d rather jump out the window. But then Chirrut has a mouth full of knives and so Baze might be the only person who finds it non-threatening.

“Oh now I’m making food, am I?”

“Of course you are, since Andrew is staying for dinner, right?

“Um.”

“Honestly it’s just easier to give in,” Baze says and takes the fish from him. He’ll freeze some for later and some for Chirrut to eat raw; not that Baze minds watching him do that. “Any allergies?”

“Uh, no. I guess I’ll stay. You don’t plan on... feeding me to-“

“Good idea! Baze loves human flesh.”

“Shut up,” Baze grumbles and starts the process of flaying the fish. It’s intact, fresh, Tseng must have gotten it right before coming here. Usually he would cook the whole thing at once, but he chunks it out and wraps up the other half and the head. Chirrut continues chattering to Tseng like he isn’t terrified, and Baze assumes it’s that he’s trying to convince him that he isn’t dangerous.

“The week before last Baze almost got attacked by a shark and I saved him.”

“It’s because you always throw your leftovers over the side; it attracts them,” he says and when he looks over his shoulder Tseng looks at him. “What?”

“Is that true? About the shark?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I punched it in the head,” Chirrut says and Tseng glances at him and says.

“Are you guys... making shit up?”

Chirrut shrieks with laughter and nearly falls out of the tub making Tseng jump back. Baze sighs. He feels distinctly like they’ve captured a hostage. He doesn’t know why Chirrut is bothering.

It takes awhile for him to finish the meal but Chirrut manages to keep Tseng from running off with his chattering. There isn’t enough room for them all to sit at the tiny table and so Chirrut stays in his tub while he and Tseng sit at the small table.

“How is the fishing going?” Baze asks. Tseng looks up and nods.

“Good. Uh. It’s good.”

“Good.”

“What have you... been up to?” he asks after a minute. His food is half gone at least, so he isn’t too scared to eat but Baze still gets the urge to reassure him that they aren’t going to murder him. If Chirrut has forgiven him then Baze has no need to hold on to his anger either.

“Not much. Retirement.”

“Baze is going to be an artist. Show him your paintings, Baze, they’re amazing.”

“They’re nothing very special. How is your dad?” Baze asks and Tseng shakes is head.

“He’s fine, thanks for asking. He thinks I’m an idiot for coming here.”

He nods and they finish their food. Tseng doesn’t try to weasel out of watching The Notebook, and it isn’t until Tseng leaves that he feels the usual ache in his heart and Chirrut looks over at him. He cleans the dishes and fights the lump in his throat.

“Did the movie make you sad?” Chirrut asks, he sounds like he’s smiling but Baze keeps his back to him.

“It’s just a movie.”

“But did it make you sad? You smell sad.”

“No.”

Chirrut drops onto the floor and pulls himself over to where Baze stands at the sink doing the dishes. He reminds him that he’s technically bigger than even Baze in total length when he pulls himself up, his hands braced on the counter and his face peers down at him.

“It’s okay to cry.”

“I’m fine.”

Chirrut pulls himself up to sit on the counter and yanks Baze into his chest. He’s wet but Baze doesn’t pull away. His arms are strong enough to keep him held there and yet he knows if he pulls back Chirrut will let him go. He lets the dishes in his hands sink into the water and lets himself relax.

“It’s okay to cry,” Chirrut repeats and Baze sighs. He thinks of Kili. He thinks of Kaya. He thinks of what might happen if he focuses too hard on his art, if he misses something because of it.  He’s been selfish enough-running away from home, letting his parents die without ever knowing him.

The phone rings loudly, snapping him out of his thoughts and then he does pull away and clears his throat before he answers. “Baze.”

“It’s Kaya. I’m at the hospital.”

“I’ll be right there,” he says and hangs up, “I’ve got to go to my sisters.”

He doesn’t hear Chirrut’s response. And he doesn’t hear the howl of the wind or feel the slap of rain against his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that IRL MerChirrut might be slightly terrifying both because he has a danger mouth and also because he has no idea how to follow social norms...like when to let the terrified guy go lmao but maybe it's just a little bit of payback? :p The fic is coming to near the end, so I'm trying to tie up any lose ends and power through it so I have at least one chaptered fic to my name that says COMPLETE lol.
> 
> Baze strikes me as someone who would 1) have DVDs rather than bluray or digital download, and 2) cry at the notebook/basically any sad movie or song like Sad Chinese Ballad Plays in BG and Baze is just like fuck...:'(
> 
> Anyway, expect another chapter soon. I've already got it written ;). I'll also be posting stuff that didn't make it into the fic, or just scenes that I ended up changing in the end.. but tbqh there's no many of them cause I pretty much just let myself write whatever I pleased :'). 
> 
> Thanks for reading, see you soon!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of death in this chapter!

Baze smells like grief. It’s familiar to him; he’s smelt it on his family, his friends, himself. He can’t see his face but the scent is like metal, tangy and sour, the stench is like the pressure on his chest when he dives deep. Below that is the scent of death. And then the medicine.

Baze doesn’t say anything, just takes off his shoes and heads for where Chirrut lounges on the couch. He sits, and Chirrut doesn’t say anything, just lets himself drop against Baze’s shoulder. He needs someone to rely on him-it keeps him going, keeps him pushing past what he thinks his limits are-but Chirrut can’t bring himself to be that burden right now. Not when beneath everything, if he really focuses, he can still smell the cocktail of ozone and perfume that Kili wore. She’d reminded him of someone, maybe someone he’d known as a mermaid, but he couldn’t ever put his finger on who it had been. They hadn’t met enough times. They might have met a few more, but Baze had told him she’d been busy and he hadn’t had it in him to catch him in the lie. He’d let her have her pride-it’d seemed cruel to take that from her too even if he wanted to get a chance to get to know her better.

“Did you eat?” Baze asks and Chirrut nods. “Do you need more. Water or.”

His voices shakes as he asks and Chirrut hears him sigh, annoyed at himself for daring to take a minute to be upset. He doesn’t understand humans. He knows they have similar death rites to merfolk, and some had themselves committed to the sea as merfolk did, but they don’t grieve the same. They pretend at being strong, or else they pretend at being distraught but then it ends and they go back to life as usual like they aren’t leaving a trail of sadness behind them. Everyone talks in soft voices-he’s heard them on boats-and then the play is over. 

“You must have been bored. I meant to send you an email.”

“Is Kaya at home?” he asks instead of answering and Baze grunts. “She should come here. Or you should go there.”

Baze doesn’t say anything and so Chirrut keeps quiet too. His heart is slow and steady, accompanied by the patter of the rain outside that hasn’t let up for the entire week Baze has been gone. When he turns and his hands find Baze’s hair he feels him sag into the touch like he can’t hold himself up under the weight of everything anymore. Baze is different than other humans. He isn’t good at acting, just letting people come to their own conclusions.

He wonders what conclusion Baze expects him to come to now.

\--

It’s stopped raining.

Weather stations only call for the usual amount. Enough time to get Chirrut down to the water. He isn’t stupid, he knows that the last couple of weeks have been difficult for him and he isn’t about to tell him to stay until Baze can bear to drag himself to his boat. Kaya might need him. Kaya hasn’t said she does, but she might.

It isn’t until he drops Chirrut into the sea that he realizes how pale he’d gotten, how dry his skin had been. He disappears into the void of blue and doesn’t come back for awhile. Baze sits on the dock and stares at the hazy sunlight bouncing off the gentle waves while he waits and manages to look at the texts in his inbox. There aren’t many; he doesn’t have many contacts beyond what’s necessary but all of them are in a similar vein. Even John sends his condolences. He sets the phone face down on the cement and fishes a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. He strikes the lighter once, twice, and holds the flame to the end. He takes a breath.

“You should come swimming with me,” Chirrut says when he finally pops his head out of the water again.

“Not now.”

“Okay,” he pouts only a little bit. Baze wishes he would whine, pull him into the water anyway.

“That’s it?”

“What am I supposed to say? You said no,” he answers and doesn’t get out of the water. He looks healthier, less like a wideeyed fish at the market. The white patch of scales stands out when he starts to float on his back and Baze looks away.

“You never took no for an answer before.”

“Things change.”

He takes a drag of his cigarette, “yeah.”

“You’re angry at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Chirrut says in the kind of way that he says everything; just on the cusp of being a bit too  matter-of-fact. Baze wants to fight with him. It doesn’t make sense. But he wants to. There’s too much energy under his skin, and he hasn’t been able to paint. There’s something in him threatening to claw its way out.

“What?” Chirrut asks after a minute and Baze stubs his cigarette out beside him.

“You shouldn’t have stayed out of the water so long.”

“Well what was I supposed to do? Leave you alone?”

“Yeah.”

The hurt that flashes across his face stabs into him like fingers prying open a wound. Like hands gouging at scales. He continues, “you should leave me alone.”

For a minute there’s only the water against the dock, the cry of the gulls, the whisper of the wind. And then there’s Chirrut hauling him into the water by the front of his jacket and he has half a second to gulp in air before he’s underwater. It’s quiet. Chirrut’s hands are clenched in his clothes, keeping him from rising again and for half a second he fears him. Half a second had been all it had taken for him to go back on his own promise not to leave him, so why not Chirrut? He could kill him here. He says nothing to fill the silence, and his face doesn’t change. He could kill Baze.

He lets go of his jacket instead. He lets him rise to the surface and stays beneath it and Baze expects him to go. He expects him to leave, to never come back. But he doesn’t.

He surfaces and then his arms are around Baze’s neck. He presses his cheek to Baze’s, “No. I won’t leave you.”

The thing living in his chest bursts free with a strangled cry and Chirrut only holds him tighter. “I promise.”

\--

Baze takes a swig of his beer and closes his hand around the clear rock Chirrut had gifted him all that time ago. The gallery is packed, loud, and people in uniforms keep trying to offer him hors d’ouevres off of large platters. And that says nothing of the music-some new, indie band that mixes what sounds like the lead singer having a temper tantrum with a guzheng- and the people-everyone has some kind of strange haircut or piercings, Baze is for once not the only man with facial hair.

He pulls at the tie around his neck-everyone else wears what looks like designer clothing and his suit is about 20 years old and from the one time that Kaya had dragged him to a wedding as her date. It had been a bit snug in the midsection last time, but now it’s a bit too big. He’d thought the constant “so when are _you_ popping the question?” conversations back then had been terrible, but at least he’d been able to deflect those. This is a different beast entirely.

He adjusts his sketchbook under his arm. Kili had told him she’d haunt him if he fucked this up. Even the weeks hadn’t taken the ache away from his chest; he doesn’t run away for her sake. For Chirrut who pushed him out the door. He takes another swig of his drink and a woman wearing a hybrid of a qipao and some kind of ruffle...thing strides over to him.

She’s younger than him, and sports an undercut that hangs into her large eyes. “Baze Malbus, right?”

“Uh. Yeah,” he says instead of grunting his reply and she grins with red lips.

“Helen Choi. I’m a friend of John’s, has anyone shown you to your part of the exhibit yet?”

“No,” he answers and she nods, making her hair bounce like a living thing.

“Follow me. I really like your work, Mr. Malbus, it’s so honest. A lot of people think art has to be really out there to be impactful but there’s something beautiful about ordinary people drawing things as they see them too, I think,” she says and then her heels are clicking across the floor and he has to squeeze through the crowd to follow her. He feels like a bull in a china shop. His skin crawls. He again squeezes the rock in his pocket and thinks of how Chirrut would respond to this situation.

He’d love it. Baze stops a bit short of that, but he breathes and looks at the installations around he and Helen Choi. The art here is an eclectic mix; she’s right that there’s a mix of out there pieces and things like meals lovingly rendered in oils. The crowd, while mostly young, is peppered with a few older people; none of which look as uncomfortable as Baze feels.

“Do you do art too?” he asks as they push through to the other side of the clump of people and she turns and grins.

“I tattoo.”

He nods and she presents holds a hand out in front of the small area. He hadn’t been able to finish much, his selection a cluster of underwater views and one of Chirrut grinning like an idiot. He smiles, and takes a sip of his drink to hide it.

“What do you think? John came up with the layout himself, he’s really interested in you you know.”

He can’t come up with words, and so he just nods instead. A year ago he hadn’t ever thought something like this could happen to someone like him. A year ago Kili had been alive. He should have done this sooner, but he has only a few minutes to stare at the pictures and drink in the memories and marvel at the simple, bold script on the placard that says his name.

“Baze, you made it,” John says with a grin. He’s dyed his hair green, and wears a tie that matches. “I thought we were going to lose you.”

“She wanted me to come.”

For a moment the din of the crowd blankets all three of them and then Helen Choi speaks up with a tone Baze immediately recognizes as teasing, “I was just showing Baze around the place, maybe you want to take over, John?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure, I mean. If you don’t mind, Baze,” he asks. Baze sees the way his face flushes just slightly, and how he pulls on his tie. He sympathizes; at least someone else is feeling the heat the way he is.

“No. I don’t mind.”

Helen Choi slips away into another group of people and Baze looks down at John, “interesting kid.”

“Oh. Helen? Yeah. She’s great,” he smiles and shoves his hands in his pockets, “it was too bad you couldn’t bring more paintings; there’s already been a couple people inquiring about those ones.”

“Inquiring.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t put a price or anything so I told them I’d have to consult you.”

“Price.”

John laughs and reaches over to smack his shoulder lightly like he’s afraid Baze might actually retaliate and smack him one for real, “you’re funny. To buy? That underwater one, with the vortex of fish is really popular.”

“Oh.”

He hasn’t thought about it. But then, he hasn’t thought about much beyond whether the phone will ring, even Chirrut has probably gotten bored even if he hasn’t said anything. Mostly he’s just gone back to doing what he’d done before; lounging around though this time on the beach. Baze’s boat floats untouched and in need of repairs at the dock, but he hasn’t made plans to do them.

“Baze?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Must be hard,” John says and touches his arm then shoves the offending hand back into his pocket, “losing your sister I mean.”

“It’s fine.”

It’s not. But no one needs to hear about that.

“Kaya isn’t coming?”

“It’s up in the air,” he answers, but knows she can’t even get up for work lately nevermind for this.

“Do you want to get some? Air?” he asks and his hand has snuck back out of his pocket again to rest on  Baze’s shoulder. He squeezes and Baze shakes his head.

“It’s fine.”

“What about another drink?”

“I have to drive.”

He’s aware he’s being difficult, but he’s never been easily digestible. Too big. Too grumpy. John smiles.

“You could come over to my place.”

“It’s fine. If Kaya shows up I’ll have to drive her home.”

John’s face drops and he stops short of telling him that they can do it another time; he’s a good kid, but he can’t commit to anything aside from laying on the beach right now. He recovers quickly enough, though, and nods.

“Right. Well, do you have any idea what you might charge for these pieces or do you need more time?”

“Whatever. Just make something up.”

John smiles, and visibly stops himself from patting Baze on the shoulder again then shoves his hands into his pockets, “sure. I’ll come up with a fair price.”

“Thanks,” Baze says. He stares at the canvas, once blank and now full of memories that feel so far away. He takes a sip from his drink. He wishes Chirrut were here.

\--

He stares up at the dark sky, so polluted by the lights of the nearby buildings that he can’t see any stars and feels more than he sees Chirrut drop down beside him. He sniffs and then Chirrut’s hands are running over his face and hair. He drops water onto Baze’s shirt and chest where he’s opened the buttons.

“Who were you with?” he asks and Baze glances down at him. He can see the outline of a frown even as his hands continue roaming over him then turn into his cheek rubbing against Baze’s.

“John.”

“Is that why you’re late?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Chirrut’s been too gentle with him lately. Ever since that time at the dock he’s treated him with kid gloves even despite knowing it’s the opposite of what he wants. He wants him to be unreasonable, to pout, but instead he gives him soft words and softer hands.

“What?”

“He wants you.”

“Don’t think so.”

Chirrut stills, and Baze sighs, “what?”

“He does. I can smell it. Do you want him too?”

“Chirrut.”

“Do you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Chirrut pulls away and flops on the sand and Baze looks over at him. He’s staring upwards and Baze sighs until he sees the shine on his eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he says, his voice tight in the kind of way that Baze has never had directed at something he’s done and it punches him in the gut.

“I don’t need you to treat me like I’m going to burst into tears any minute.”

“You smell like grief. All the time. How can I act like everything is okay when you’re walking around like that?” he asks with a shaking voice, “you’re cruel, Baze Malbus.”

All the other humans have used Chirrut then thrown him away, he’s said it and not said it. Baze thought himself different, but now here he is. Trying to use Chirrut to ignore his feelings, trying to toss him away because the thought of losing him is like being in open water without a lifejacket.

Chirrut shudders when he puts his hand on his shoulder, or rather, he notices the shivering of his body when he does it and the feeling of being gut punched hits him again.

“I’m sorry,” he says when Chirrut gasps out a breath, “I wanted you there tonight. Didn’t feel right without you, since you’re the one in most of my paintings.”

At first Chirrut says nothing, and then he turns his head, “I thought you painted fish.”

“Sometimes. But mostly you. Ever since we met. You think a kid like John holds a candle to you?” he answers and feels his face go red; he doesn’t expect his confession to mean anything, not after everything he’s put Chirrut through lately but Chirrut moves his face closer.

“We’ve known each other for ten years.”

“The day I pulled you out of that net, that was it for me.”

Chirrut sighs, and wraps his arms around Baze’s neck, “I knew you were a weird artist.”

“I know I’m not off the hook. I’ve been cold. Been ignoring you. Trying to use you to kick my own ass. But if it’s about me wanting anyone else, you don’t have to worry about that,” he says and Chirrut yanks on his hair.

“Promise.”

He doesn’t think that Chirrut should believe his promises anymore and yet he’s asked him anyway. He presses his face into Chirrut’s neck, “I promise.”

Chirrut kisses him on the head like he’s not too big or too grumpy, and Baze fights against the dislike of being vulnerable. He’s always vulnerable around Chirrut, he doesn’t know why this is so different to turning to mush when he touches him in bed or anywhere else or letting him hold him underwater like he might just drown him. But it feels different. He forces himself to lean into it and after a minute the discomfort subsides, and Chirrut kisses him again.

The air is warm and the waves lap at the sand. Chirrut is a cool wall against his face and he breathes out the last of his tension before he leans back. The sky might be too light for stars, but Chirrut’s scales flash like something similar.

He stares out at the dark water, “let’s go swimming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea of Baze being really clueless when it comes to people hitting on him lmao. But I also wanted there to be a little bit of drama cause there's always that point in the relationship where you think you know everything about the other person and can almost read their mind but then you get your ass yanked back down to earth. Also maybe it's obvious but Chirrut wasn't planning on drowning him lol he just knows that Baze finds being underwater pretty peaceful. 
> 
> Anyway I said I wasn't gonna kill off Kili but I lied lol it seemed like the natural progression unfortunately since I wasn't anticipating the fic would be this long... but I didn't want to write a whole scene with her dying in Baze's arms or something because I prefer to write about the aftermath of things than write some overwrought scene since I lean more towards "too over-dramatic" when it comes to those kinds of things LOL. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
